


Permission

by PleasantlyWeird



Category: This Means War (2012), Tom Hardy - Fandom, Tuck Hansen - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleasantlyWeird/pseuds/PleasantlyWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Hansen is your obsession and the only one who can give you what you need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr. Officer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Christina... you know who you are](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Christina...+you+know+who+you+are).



> Some links for visuals of some of the things mentioned in the story:
> 
> Car: http://cars-list-db.com/photo/im/lotus-elise/01/
> 
> Perfume: http://www.saksfifthavenue.com/main/ProductDetail.jsp?PRODUCT%3C%3Eprd_id=845524445695763&CAWELAID=1354153560&cagpspn=pla&site_refer=GGLPRADS001
> 
> Skirt: http://www.luckymag.com/style/2013/10/dream-skirts_slideshow_item1_2

You’re sure it’s him, even though the smoke and dim lighting make seeing clearly damn near impossible. You’re aware that you’re staring, being completely obvious but with the blaring music and the roar of the drunken club-goers no one is likely to notice. You’ve been frequenting this place for weeks now, searching for the one who can give you what you need. Not just anyone is going to be able to do what you need them to do, know what needs to happen without having it written out for them. How can you explain what you can’t put into words? You believe with all your being that somehow HE will just know.

You make your way a little closer to him; you see that his lips are puckered around a toothpick the same way they were when he pulled you over. The uniform is gone, replaced by tight jeans and a tight, black designer tee. Every part of him is defined; his trapezius muscles are hypnotic to you. Even under the blue of the police uniform shirt you had noticed them as he’d asked you if you’d had any idea how fast you had been going. You’d been so engrossed with his commanding demeanor and the way his arms undulated as they gripped your door frame that you weren’t even upset when he handed you that two hundred dollar speeding ticket.

He seems to be alone but you don’t dare go any closer. Surely he’d remember you; you’d been driving the Lotus Elise when he’d clocked you doing 110. People were always impressed with the expensive toy, a present from your milquetoast ex-boyfriend; the same one who wouldn’t go down on you or fuck you in any position except missionary. You’d never thought to broach the subjects of bondage, submission and domination with him. A man who won’t eat your pussy isn’t going to know how to break you the way you crave to be broken. You’d only stayed so long in that boring relationship because the prominence of Ray’s family name had made you feel safe. Feeling safe only goes so far; especially when what you really crave is feeling unsafe.

No, Ray would have never understood what you craved and why you needed it. He was perfectly happy in his little money filled, elegant bubble. The most risqué thing Ray ever did was to cum on your stomach and he’d apologized afterwards. He probably would have died of shock if you’d ever asked him to spank you; but your kink goes much deeper than a whack or two on the ass. You need someone who can see past the socialite exterior; beyond the high tea, white gloves, prim and proper girl who never fails to make page 6. Safe is the world you exist in but you don’t feel like you’re living. This man, Officer Hansen his nametag and the ticket had informed you, with the slick English accent and a body made for depravity makes you feel extremely off balance.

Maybe its daddy issues, maybe it’s because you’ve always gotten everything you’ve ever wanted from an overbearing, over-compensating, richer than God mother; whatever the reasons might be the fact is that conventional, vanilla sex does nothing for you. You’ve never even had an orgasm with someone else. Any release has been solo and while thinking about someone using you, breaking down your carefully constructed walls and making you cum hard; sometimes at the end of a riding crop or trussed up like a sacrificial lamb. The scenarios vary but one thing remains the same regardless; the one who rules you never has to be instructed or asked; he just knows.

Snapping out of your daydream you look around and realize that while you’ve been enmeshed with the ghosts of orgasms past he’s up and gone. Your heart sinks; you’re not sure how you would have approached him or if you even would have but knowing that your opportunity has passed burns you. You whip your head around, searching every dark corner of the crowded club but he’s gone. You not only see this but you feel it; the energy has changed.

Throwing back the last of your Patron you slap two hundred dollar bills down on the bar, motion for the bartender and wrap up in your jacket to face the night air. You know you’ll keep coming back here until you see him again; this chance sighting has taken you from a mild infatuation with masturbatory fodder to a full blown obsession in a matter of minutes. You know that he can give you what you need. You don’t want some rich fool falling down at your feet and calling you a goddess. You want a dirty, gritty son of a bitch that will fuck you in the ass without asking permission because he knows you need to be used like that. You want a man that will tell you how much your eight hundred dollar an ounce Clive Christian perfume fucking stinks as he’s pulling your hair and slamming into you from behind.

Walking out of the club you’re unsteady as you head towards the Elise. The clubs you usually frequent always have valet parking but not here in this neighborhood. You feel rather lucky that the Lotus seems intact as you use the remote to unlock and start it up. You’re not slightly tipsy in the least, even after the Patron shots but your recent sleepless nights are pulling on your eyelids, making them heavy. You know you need to get home quickly; you have fresh memories of a sculpted jawline as it works on passing a toothpick from corner to corner. That vision alone will be enough to get off on tonight before sleep finally comes.

 

Night after night you’ve come back to this shitty, sweaty club in this run down corner of the city but you’ve not seen Officer Hansen again. The bartender has taken a special interest in you but he’s insignificant; no more qualified to make you cum that old Ray had been. He fancies himself pretty cute but he’d be just another unsatisfying fuck that you’d have to drink to forget. He doesn’t have ‘it’.

You’ve scanned the personals in the papers, even Craigslist, looking for something even remotely close to what you need but it’s all been about contracts and safe words. You don’t need a safe word; the right person could demand anything of you and there’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to please them. It used to be that you thought you were a Dom who needed a sub but with each passing relationship you’ve realized that dominating someone just isn’t going to cut it. The desire to be utterly and completely dominated rules your thoughts all the time. But there are stipulations for your desires. You don’t want to have to spell it out for anyone, you don’t want there to be paperwork and you don’t have time for anyone who feels the need to ask permission.

Tonight finds you on some expressway, speeding again, driving aimlessly with the windows down and some savage, drum driven metal band blaring on the stereo system. You’re half naked; your Papier Vitrail skirt is pulled up to your waist and your champagne colored Guia La Bruna panties are somewhere miles behind you on the side of the road. The feel of the cool night air whipping at your naked crotch is electric; the fact that you’re envisioning Officer Hansen’s face rutting down there isn’t hurting either. Your foot presses the accelerator, the speedometer creeps past 110; you’re driving faster than you’ve ever dared before.

Passing 120 and well on your way to 130 you see headlights whip out behind you and hear the gunning of an engine. Instantly your rearview mirror is ablaze with flashing blue lights. Slowing, not wanting to risk the life of anyone else by trying to outrun the trouble you know you’re in, you pull off at the next exit and come to a stop at the bottom of the ramp.

Your palms start sweating as you wait for the policeman/woman to come to your door. You know the routine; getting pulled over is old hat to you. You have more money than sense some times and this is a frequent thing. You can’t see much in the side view mirror other than the blinding glare of the blue lights as they signal the impending ticket and the fact that you’ve been busted once again. You can feel that the excitement of driving too fast mixed with the fantasy of Officer Hansen has you soaked. You can smell your own arousal in the car’s interior; it’s musky and almost completely masks the scent of your overpriced perfume.

You catch sight of a bulky shadow walking towards your car, the gait cocky and bowlegged. You think fleetingly that it might be the one you’ve been stalking unsuccessfully but you don’t imagine it could really be. At least not until you catch sight of the mouth that’s haunted your fantasies as it leans in to your open window. You see the deep blue/green eyes narrow as he takes in your face, you watch as his nostrils flare slightly; you know he smells your excitement.

“You again,” he says, his voice low, his accent pronounced. “Please step out of the car.”

You’re not sure if it’s the realization that he’s here or the flashing lights that are making you woozy and weak but you find the strength to open the door and stand beside the car.

“Turn around and place your hands on the roof please,” he growls and you comply. His hands start at your armpits and pat you down. He won’t find anything; not even underwear. His touch is firm, maybe slightly rough. You can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck as he leans in and reaches around to pat you down on the front of your body. Your nipples respond to his touch immediately; stiffening into something that could fucking cut glass and you stifle a moan to the best of your ability. His hands make their way all the way down your front to your bare knees and then start a slow ascent. They continue up your legs and underneath your tiny skirt. You gasp as you feel them brush your pussy roughly. You hear Officer Hansen chuckle from behind you as he makes two more passes across your drenched center.

“Put your hand behind your back.”

Seconds later you’re in cuffs and thrown unceremoniously into the back of his squad car. He makes sure to hike your skirt up so that your bare ass and pussy are pressed against the cold fake leather upholstery. The handcuffs are tight, too tight and you know that he did it on purpose. You also know better than to say a fucking thing about it because he’d warned you as he’d shoved you into the backseat, “Not a fucking word from you.”

He’s got the police lights flashing but only when he sees traffic ahead. There isn’t much this far from the city; you know he’s not taking you to the station and you know better than to ask where you’re going although the thought of disobeying to see just how rough he’s willing to get does cross your mind.

He’s driving so fast that you can’t read the road signs. You have no clue where you are and you don’t care. The fact that you’re alone with him has you on the verge of orgasm already. He glances at you in the rearview mirror as if he can read your mind.

“Stop moving around, you don’t cum until I give you permission,” he threatens and his voice deep and sounds dangerous. You can only nod as your do your best to remain motionless.

The squad car slows as he nears an exit; you don’t bother to look because you don’t care where he’s taking you. Several quick turns that he makes would have had you completely lost if you’d have bothered anyway. This is the kind of place that can only be found by accident the first time and you know instinctively that he’s been here before. Pulling into a darkened field he turns off the headlights and turns off the ignition. In the distance ahead you can see the famous skyline of your city backlit by a million street lights. Forcing yourself to focus on the back of his head, you wait. He looks at you in the rearview mirror but doesn’t turn as he speaks.

“I saw you in the club on several occasions. I got the feeling you were looking for me. Did someone send you? Nod yes or no but don’t speak.”

You shake your head slowly, telling him no.

“This isn’t some game and I don’t deal with bored housewives who’ve read all the 50 Shades of Bullshit books. That’s not real or realistic. Do you understand what I mean? You’ll have no safety net with me so you’d better be sure you know what you’re getting into little girl.”

You nod your head again, only this time it’s a yes.

He looks at you, his eyes boring into you and you can tell he’s sizing you up, determining what you can take and how far he can take you down this pathway. You feel electricity passing through that gaze and it’s directly connected to your throbbing cunt. You close your eyes against the harsh glare of the overhead light as he opens the door to get out.  You feel the cold night air again as he pulls you out of the backseat and leads you around to the front of the car. He pushes you forward and your upper body meets the warm metal of the hood. It smells of oil and gasoline and the warmth feels good against your cheek.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and you hesitate. His hand comes crashing down on your bare ass, making you squeak in surprise. “You’ll do as you’re told without hesitation, do you understand me? Now spread… your… legs,” His voice never raises in volume but the veracity and intensity of his tone increase greatly. His foot comes between your own and he uses it to help spread yours a good distance from each other. You’re completely prone now and unable to stand back up on your own without assistance. His hand snakes between your legs again and you feel his fingers probing you.

“So wet,” he breathes and the sound is ragged but still in control. You hear him as he smells and tastes you on his fingers and moans lightly. “I had an idea about you when I first pulled you over. Too much money, too much time on your hands but no amount of money can buy what you need can it? All your rich boyfriends can’t scratch that itch you have, can they?”

You feel something cold pressing against your center and you realize it’s his policeman’s nightstick. He rubs light circles on your clit with it and it’s all you can do not to gyrate against it.  Somehow you know to do so would displease him and your mind screams at the thought.

Grabbing the chain connecting your handcuffs he pulls you into a standing position again and turns you to face him. You stare at your feet; not daring to look him in the eye until he gives you permission. “Very good,” he whispers, leaning in to your ear and flicking it with his tongue. “I’m very pleased with you so far, pet.” The throbbing in your center increases with his approval.

You see his hands working at undoing his utility belt and your gaze never wavers from the ground as he lays it on the hood next to you. His pants and underwear slide slowly to the ground and you sneak a glance at his cock as it springs into view. His hand slowly works the shaft of it and you want nothing more than to fall to your knees and take it into your mouth but you know he’s in control.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, pet. That’s something that you earn and you’ve a long way to go before we get to that. But I think you need something to quench that fire you got going on between your legs. So tonight I’m going to give you a gift, one that will bring you back to me.”

Turning you around again you feel him as he unlocks the handcuffs; he spins you to face him then picks you up effortlessly by the waist, placing you on the hood of the car. Laying you back he handcuffs you again, this time securing you to one of the windshield wiper mechanisms. Your arms are stretched uncomfortable above your head and he pulls you further down the hood, lengthening your reach considerably, making it painful but not too much to handle. This is the thing you’ve been craving, the total loss of control. He’s not asking you what you want or how much you can handle; this man knows instinctively and all you can think of is how badly you want him to push for more than you think you can take. The arousal is pouring out of you, you can feel it running down your thighs and ass but you won’t squirm.

“I want you to watch me; don’t take your eyes off of me. And don’t you dare fucking come until I give you permission. Do you understand me?”

You nod as you watch his lips spread into a crooked grin. You notice the dazzling imperfection of his smile; fixate on the crooked set of his teeth that somehow make him sexier than you thought possible. His hands grab you roughly under your ass and he lifts your hips up, lowering his face to meet them. His mouth makes contact with your pussy and it’s all you can do not to shove it into his face in frenzy. All your focus is on maintaining your control and doing exactly as instructed. Your breathing is shallow as you feel his tongue part you and travel a path up and down your slit. He probes you, tasting you but never breaking eye contact. He’s making sure that you’re doing what he’s commanded; looking for any reason to punish you. The throbbing in your clit increases and you feel the inevitable surge of orgasm. Just before it overwhelms you his mouth releases you and the feeling quells.

He blows a chilly breath onto your center and you feel the bundle of nerves there tighten. Suddenly his mouth envelops you again, sucking you into the moist heat of his mouth. You hold your breath and watch as he gages you. Moving his attention lower his tongue probes your opening and awakens a new level of arousal that you’ve never experienced before. He’s playing you like an instrument.

“You’ve my permission to make sounds. I want to hear you now. But remember you mustn’t come until I say. Now watch me.”

Officer Hansen lowers you back down onto the hood and takes a step back from you. He fists his cock again and begins slowly stroking it, looking you in the eyes. Your neck aches from the strain of holding your head up enough to watch what he’s doing but you don’t complain. All you can think about is pleasing him and hearing him give you permission to orgasm. The ache is unbearable as you see his strokes increase in speed and intensity. His breathing grows louder and becomes ragged; you see his shoulder muscles tighten and his forehead furrow. He steps closer to you and you feel his free hand make contact, his fingers parting you. His cock is close enough to you that you can feel the wind from his movements on your exposed center. His thumb rubs circles on your engorged clit and you feel yourself reach the precipice again. You’re moaning loudly, panting, begging with moans and cries; but you won’t come until he allows you to. You want to scream when you feel his thumb move away but the despair is short-lived.

“Now!” he hisses and as you feel the first hot splash of his release on your nub then you’re falling into the blackness, writhing on the hood and crying with relief, thanking him over and over again for your first real orgasm.

What seems like a lifetime later you feel his mouth on your inner thigh; he’s sucking the pale skin there intensely. He’s marking you as his own but it’s not necessary; this man owns you and you both know it. You lie there silently as he reassembles his uniform and not a word is said as he releases the handcuffs and throws you over his shoulder. Loading you gently into the passenger seat instead of the back he buckles you in and closes the door.

You’re more tired than you can ever remember feeling and you smile sleepily as he climbs into the driver’s seat. Reaching across the dividing jumble of computer equipment his hand gently strokes the side of your face.

“Thank you… Master” you whisper hesitantly as your eyelids grow heavy and your thoughts go dim.

"Not Master...,” He chuckles. “Just call me Tuck.”


	2. The Apparatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious text and a package arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are your visual cues, some images are NSFW, you've been warned ;)
> 
> Gucci Sunglasses: http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/gucci-marina-chain-59mm-oversized-sunglasses/3478760?origin=keywordsearch-personalizedsort&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=Mystic+White%2F+Grey+Gradient&resultback=4275&cm_sp=personalizedsort-_-searchresults-_-1_12_C
> 
> Red Dress: http://buyerselect.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/parker-exclusive-keyhole-crossover-dress.jpg  
> Louboutin Heels: http://s7d9.scene7.com/is/image/Barneys/502343653_product_1?$zoom_square$
> 
> Chastity belt: http://img01.taobaocdn.com/bao/uploaded/i1/T1cYWAXiREXXX1pUPa_122552.jpg_310x310.jpg
> 
> Hermes trench coat: http://item5.tradesy.com/images/item/3/outerwear/hermes/6-s/hermes-trench-coat-297149-1.jpg

Two weeks have passed since your experience with Officer Hansen. Like an addict you itch for more of what he gave you. He’d dropped you off at your home with a promise to have the Lotus retrieved from the roadside and brought to you. When you’d offered to remind him of your name he’d replied, “You haven’t earned a name from me yet.”

He’d left after telling you only that you’d hear from him soon. He didn’t ask for a number, cell or otherwise but you know he’ll find you if and when he chooses. This is a man who is connected. You haven’t gone back to the club; somehow you know he would be annoyed to see you there. So you’ve been biding your time but not patiently. Over and over in your mind you’ve replayed the whole encounter and remain amazed at how he made you orgasm on cue.

Masturbation has brought you no release and your frustration has grown. You’re ruined for self-pleasure because he’s not there to give you permission. Your friends have given up on asking you to come out with them; there’s nothing enticing out there for you right now when all you can think about are those full lips, those piercing blue/green eyes and that voice; that goddamned voice that drips with sex and commands obedience.

The mark he left on your inner thigh is fading every day. You often stare at it in the mirror as you stand looking at your nude form. You see yourself differently since the encounter. It’s not a quantifiable difference; you just know that something has changed and that you’ll never be the same woman again.

Your mother has even noticed the difference; you catch her sneaking sideways glances at you during the weekly mandatory lunches you’re goaded into attending. You must keep up appearances with good old mom or the checks might not be deposited in your already bloated bank account; that’s just not acceptable for a trust fund baby such as yourself. Your father left you your own money but it’s Mommy that controls the purse strings for now. It’s not even the money that keeps you in line with her, rather it’s not wanting to answer her questions or listen to the guilt trips she’s capable of laying on you. Guilt _trip_ isn’t adequate terminology; it’s more like a seven day, six night cruise to “don’t you know what I sacrificed to become your mother” island. So you sit through the boring lunches at the stuffy country clubs and you nod absently at her gossip as you think about Officer Hansen burying his face into your cunt. For him, it would never be a vagina or some cutesy name like a muffin; for him it’s a cunt, a pussy, a gash and that turns you on like nothing ever has.

 

Two weeks, five hours and three minutes have passed since Officer Hansen left your place and you’re feeling each passing second weighing on you disguised as doubt and longing. You’re on the balcony of your overpriced, glorified condo in a better part of town reveling in the smell of taxi exhaust and salt water when your Blackberry beeps, informing you that you have a text message. You’re tempted to delete it without looking. One more socialite friend texting you about some rave with the “common people” in a dirty warehouse on the docks is going to result in your phone flying twenty-seven stories down to meet the concrete. Rolling your eyes before checking it, you lift your Gucci sunglasses to sit on top of your head.

_40t h street subway station. 9 sharp tonight. Wear red._

Immediately you’re soaked in sweat and arousal. It’s him, he wants to see you again, he’s decided that he wants to teach you and you want to start earning a name from him. You want to have your boundaries tested, to earn penetration and a damned name from him. Leaping off of the deck chair you head straight to the walk-in closet. You know exactly what you’re going to wear; the little red Chanel cocktail dress that has been hanging unused for months. Grabbing the zippered bag you throw it carelessly onto the bed and head back to the closet. There’s a pair of Louboutin's in there that have the exact shade of red on the toe to match the dress perfectly. You’re so aroused that you think about slipping your hand down the front of your pants and rubbing slow circles on your clit but stop short. He’d know that you did it as soon as he looked in your face and he wouldn’t be pleased.

Hearing your phone beep again you look at it expectantly and see another message from him.

_A package should be arriving soon. Follow the instructions carefully._

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. Closing your robe around you, you peer at the security monitor and see a bike messenger at your door holding a box. Opening the door only wide enough to sign his paperwork and receive the package, you smile tensely at him and close the door as soon as the exchange is made. Your heart races as you head to the dinette. Ripping through the brown paper wrapping like a tornado, soon you’re staring open-mouthed at a very strange looking contraption. It takes a few minutes but you realize that it’s something akin to a modern chastity belt except there are two attachments that most definitely are meant to fit into two specific orifices. Looking back into the box you see two opened brass locks, a small metallic packet and a handwritten note. You smile as you gaze upon the spidery scrawl, recognizing the writing as the same from the speeding ticket

_Wear this to the designated meeting place. Locks should be engaged and believe me,  I will be checking. I have the only key. Take the belt out of the box before reading any further; familiarize yourself with every part of it._

You do as the letter instructs and lift the apparatus out of the box. The majority of the structure is made of felt lined metal. The two attachments are shaped glass orbs of increasing sizes from top to bottom. The whole feel of it is rigid, strict and you shiver as you realize how much this is going to pinch underneath the luxurious material of your Chanel expensive dress. And let’s not forget that you’ve never had so much as a finger in your ass. The glass anal dildo looks enormous as you run your hand over it, relishing the coldness of it. Looking on the outside of the belt you see the two places where the locks fit. You imagine that they’ll clink loudly against the metal of the belt with every step you’ll take but only you will know what’s causing the sound. You take note that there is an escape hatch of sorts that is enclosed by the bottom lock. Your mind immediately begins preparing for what needs to be done before attaching this device to your body.

                It’s about this time that doubt and fear start to creep into you mind. This is going to take an enormous amount of trust on your part. What if he doesn’t show up? What if there are no keys? How will you possibly explain this to someone if it turns out that you have to have this cut off of you? You can imagine the look of horror on your mother’s face as she finds out from one of her gossipy friends that you had to be cut out of something that plugged your pussy and your ass. You decide to put it on without another seconds delay and in your mind’s eye you see Officer Hansen smile, his generous mouth spreads wide but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. You know you haven’t earned that yet.

                Referring back to the letter he instructs you with the things you need to do to prepare yourself for the insertions. His instructions are clinical and precise as he writes about things you wouldn’t be willing to discuss with a doctor or even a close girlfriend. You don’t feel the least bit shy or taken aback reading his instructions. He’s telling you step by step how to prepare your body for the pleasure that only he can bring to you. Looking at the clock you realize that nine hours is the span of time between now and when you’re to meet him at the subway station. What might seem like a lifetime now seems like not enough time as you quickly dress and head out for the supplies you need.

***

Your Gucci sunglasses and Hermes scarf cover much of your face and you’ve had the taxi take you far away from your local neighborhood to retrieve the things you need. Running into a friend when buying an enema is not something you want to waste time trying to explain. The CVS is practically deserted this time of day and you’re more than a little relieved. On a whim you buy extra lubricant, a brand that includes a numbing gel and is meant to help men last longer during intercourse. The smarmy clerk smiles suggestively at you as he takes the time to ogle your purchases but he can’t put a damper on your excitement.

Rushing home you lay your items out on the bed next to the belt and Officer Hansen’s instructions; you pick the paper up with trembling hands to read the final paragraph.

_Now is the beginning of the ritual you are to complete each time you and I are to meet. You will cleanse yourself inside and out. You’ll refrain from eating or drinking once this ritual is complete. Your mind should be on one thing and one thing only; how to please me. Pleasing me will only lead to rewards beyond your wildest imagination. Failure to do so will lead to the loveliest suffering your body will ever endure. – T._

  Your eyes return time and time again to the words _loveliest suffering_ and you honestly can’t decide if it’s such a bad alternative to being rewarded. In your mind, Officer Hansen’s punishment would be a reward in and of itself.

You don’t rush the cleansing; it feels right to draw it out and make it into something ritualistic in nature. You think of it as a sanctifying of sorts for the one you serve. Your body is nothing more than an instrument for his pleasure and approval. You shave, cleanse, and then soak in a bath filled with sandalwood and jasmine. The essential oils lend an air of sensuality to the ceremony and you relax in the warm water as you think of all the preparation you’ve done already. Inserting the nozzle of the enema into your ass for the first time was odd but not as uncomfortable you’d thought it might be. You imagines Officer Hansen in the shower beside you, crouching down and watching you carefully as you carried out his instruction to the letter. You were ready now for anything he might have planned for tonight but are you ready to strap yourself into that belt?

Drying off and standing nude in your dressing area, the belt is on the table in front of you. The glass inserts seem to have doubled in size since the last time you looked at them. Once inserted, once the locks are engaged, you’re wearing this device until Officer Hansen sees fit to free you. You’re completely at his mercy and the thought leaves you panting, your mind echoing a resounding yes as you make a resolute decision.

Tearing open the metallic packet of lube you smear the anal insertion with it thoroughly before lying on your back on the floor. Both dildos are meant to be inserted simultaneously; you’re completely drenched so you know that one of them won’t present a problem. Lifting your ass you position the opened waist constraint underneath your back and slide it upwards until you feel contact with your openings. Taking it slow, you insert the first, smallest globe into your anus. The feeling isn’t overwhelming or uncomfortable so you decide you won’t use the numbing gel. It seems like a betrayal of sorts that you even purchased it.

The next section goes in easily and you feel some pressure but it’s not unbearable; three more to go. Soon all but the last has been inserted and you feel full. You’re not sure that the last one is going to fit; you’re sweating with concentration. You know it’s going to go in but you’re scared. Placing your faith in the fact that you don’t think Officer Hansen would give you a challenge you couldn’t meet you press the last of the glass globes inside. Double the size of the first one, it stretches you, pushes your body to capacity in both orifices and you feel a weird sense of pride. Snapping the waist restraint closed you roll to your stomach and push up onto your knees. As you do the glass knobs in your pussy press against something that feels like sheer magic and you gasp out loud. Shaking you slowly stand up straight, not wanting to risk an orgasm outside of HIS presence.

Looking at the clock you realize you need to get your ass in gear and start getting ready. Reaching into the package you grab the two brass locks and snap them into place. You try not to think too hard about it, it’s done and over with now. You skip the bra and pull on the Gucci dress over your head, shivering as the soft material slides slowly down your body. You’d planned ahead and put on your back seam thigh high hosiery before strapping into the device. Sliding your feet into the Louboutins you take stock of your appearance in the full length mirror. You decide on minimal makeup. Why waste expensive foundation when you’re expecting an evening that ends with you drenched in sweat? Wrapping yourself in your heavy black Hermes trench coat you call down to the doorman, asking him to hail a cab for you.

The ride to your closest subway station is bumpy. Every time the cabbie hits a pothole the device rubs what you can only imagine is you’re here-to-fore unexplored g-spot. Every time it gets touched your body spasms and inches closer towards an unwanted orgasm. You know now that the challenge set forth by Officer Hansen with this little device wasn’t merely to see if you would wear it; he wanted to see if you would fight against your body to avoid a release of any kind. You’re not about to disappoint him.

Reaching the station, you pay the driver and resolutely decide to stand on the ride to the 40th street station. Your plans are foiled when one too many gentlemen offer their seats to you and you don’t want to appear rude. The thirty-seven minute ride to your stop is a veritable fight to the death against your own pussy and you’re woozy when you hear the operator announce your stop. Walking the platform to the subway exit, you smile to yourself every time you feel and hear the locks clink against the metal of the belt.

You sense him before you see him. That strange, static charge crawls all over you, up your legs, under your dress, through your hair across your scalp. Your eyes search the concourse for him and soon he steps out of the shadows and stalks slowly towards you. His gaze is intense and penetrating; he makes no bones about looking you up and down but you find no hint of what he’s thinking in those eyes. Standing beside you he places a hand on your back and uses it to guide you towards the bustling entrance and out into a waiting cab.

Climbing in beside you in the backseat he leans in closer without looking at you and whispers lowly, “You were three minutes late.”

You know he’s not expecting a response, he’s warning you in his own way that he’s displeased. You shiver, your mind playing out scenes of punishment and it’s all too much, his low toned warning mixed with your images and then the cab jostles over a bump. Your body turns traitorous and you orgasm, your cunt clutching around the glass dildo spasmodically. You tear up because you know he can tell what’s happened. You see his nostrils flare in your peripheral vision; he leans in once again and stuns you with his words.

“Pets aren’t trained in a day, love. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you pay for what you’ve done.”


	3. Kinbaku and Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The art of rope tying and a riding crop.

The cab pulls up in front of an unimpressive looking hotel called Verve. Your face is still colored with shame and anger at yourself. You’ve failed the first challenge set forth and it really chaps your ass. Officer Hansen hasn’t said another word to you  although he offers his hand and helps you up and out of the taxi. Placing his palm on your back once again he guides you into the lobby.

Walking to the front desk it becomes apparent that the beautiful blonde desk clerk is familiar with him. She greets him with a smile and speaks to him in French. You’re startled when he replies in a beautiful French accent. The clerk (whose nametag identifies her as Corrine) hands him a keycard and gives you a timid, knowing smile. You force yourself to smile back at her; Officer Hansen seems friendly with her and you’ve already displeased him enough, acting like a bitch to this woman isn’t going to win you any favors.

Leading you to the elevators he pushes the up button. While you wait you dare to steal a glance at him. He is wearing a pair of black dress slacks and a dark blue button down shirt that accentuates each muscle. His face sports a little more than five o clock shadow and the color of the beard is a couple shades lighter than his hair. His jaw is tense, watching the muscles underneath work leaves you staring longer than you mean to. You jerk your head away and stare at the Louboutins on your feet.

“Looking at me is perfectly acceptable until we’re in the room. In the room you’ll do as you’re told, I will give you concise instruction that you will follow and you will earn your privileges. You’ll also earn your pleasure. Tonight, you’ve earned nothing but my disapproval so far. I hope you haven’t made plans to return home before tomorrow. You’ve a hard first lesson coming.”

You’re already so wet from the incident in the cab but his voice, the intensity of his tone and the content of his little impromptu speech are making you much wetter. You can feel the moisture of your arousal dousing the glass dildo and leaking down onto the bottom of the belt. The elevator opens and he guides you inside. You don’t look at him again.

You want so badly to ask what’s in store but you know better. He wouldn’t tell you, not before he gets you alone.  Stepping out onto the 14th floor he leads you the very end of the hallway. He opens the door and you’re surprised at just how large and nice the room is. The first thing your eyes are drawn to are the various types of rope that lay coiled on the dresser.

“Sit down, and you may look at me for now,” Officer Hansen commands and you comply, sitting in the chair closest to the window. “There are things you must hear before this goes any further.” He waits until you realize he expects you to confirm and you nod. “Very good. First off. I am a Dominant. I am not a switch, I will never sub for you or anyone so if that’s an expectation we should part ways now. Understand?” You nod your agreement again.

“I will never mark your body permanently, any Dom who would do that is sick. There is nothing sick about a healthy BDSM relationship. A realistic BDSM relationship is nothing like what you may have read in your book club. BDSM relationships rarely end up as a love affair. I am not looking for a lover, I am looking for a submissive and I see something in you that has peaked my interests and appetite. Do not fall in love or catch feelings. This is strictly a physical agreement.” Without any prodding you nod again. You don’t need or want love, you want his discipline and you want his approval.

His voice softens as he kneels down in front of you, his eyes are bright and he looks directly into yours. “That’s not to say that I won’t be a caring, kind Dom when you deserve it. I reward greatly when it’s earned.” The moment passes and he stands again, pacing at the end of the king sized bed.

“Normally there would be a contract, a safe word set in place to make sure that lines and comfort zones aren’t crossed. But I’ve an inkling about you. I don’t think you have lines or comfort zones. There is a great amount of trust that is required between a Dom and a sub. You must trust that I will never cause you serious harm or abuse the trust you place in me. I must trust that this isn’t some silly game for you and that you mean to learn and appreciate what I can teach you. Can I expect that from you?”

You nod your head affirmatively, your sex throbbing and  growing wetter by the second. The anticipation of what he has planned for you is overwhelming and you think you might come again any second. This man just drips sex, his words, his stern gaze, the set of his hips, the crooked pinky that has you wondering how he hurt it, the one tooth that sets out further and lower than the rest; the same one that you long to feel biting down onto your bare breast. Everything about him is a filthy fucking promise of the best sex you’ll ever have. He’s barely touched you and has already done more for you than any other man in your past. He’s inside your head already, fucking your mind. He knows exactly how far to take you and how to get you there.

He snaps his fingers and you know you’ve fucked up again. You missed something he said while you were daydreaming about gray matter gang-bangs and bite marks.

“I asked you to tell me exactly what you expect from this arrangement,” His voice is curt, annoyed and your words in return spill out like verbal vomit.

“I want you to stretch me, bend me, and break me; make me into what will satisfy you. When you think you’ve taken me to my limit I want you to push me further. You’re right, I don’t need a contract or a safe word. My whole life has been one huge safe word and I’m done with that world. I want you to abuse my cunt, mark my body as you see fit, make me your instrument. I want to taste all the pain you care to dish out. I just don’t want a boring, safe world anymore. I need to feel alive.” The words end as abruptly as they started and you wonder if you’ve made yourself sound stupid to him. It’s been a long time since you’ve cared enough about someone’s approval that you actually feel vulnerable to their opinion of you. You wait in silence for a long, bad moment and then he replies.

“Very well. Let’s begin.”

He offers you a hand and helps you out of the seat. He lifts your arms and you hold them up as he undoes the belt to your Chanel dress and lifts it above your head. He eyes your bare breasts approvingly and then lowers his gaze to the belt.

“Let’s hope for the sake of your beautiful bum that you’re clean when I take this off. I assume that you followed my instructions to the letter?”

You focus your eyes on the plush gray carpeting and nod yes.

You see his hand reach into his pocket and pull out a brass key that’s tied to a long red ribbon. He inserts the key into the upper lock and snaps it open; soon after both locks are open and removed from the belt. Officer Hansen runs his finger along the wetness that’s seeping from inside the apparatus.

“You’re so very excited already. Let’s see how long that holds out when you see what I’ve planned for tonight.”

You hear him suck your wetness off of his finger and then see him kneel down in front of you. His eyes are level with your pussy and he watches intently, appearing totally fascinated as he pulls the belt down and the glass dildos start to slide out with it. You feel a pop as each globe comes out of your ass and you hear the immense wetness as your cunt is emptied as well. You’re so close to coming again but you refuse to give in. He’s waiting for it, expecting it. The belt hits the floor and the locks clang together.

“Well played, pet.” He smirks up at you before standing. “Tonight I’m going implement  impact play as well as a light form of Kinbaku which is a form of erotic rope binding. When done in the traditional way it can take hours but we won’t go that extensively into it. My plan is to introduce you to the idea that pain, when delivered correctly, is just as satisfying as pleasure, that it may even be just another form of pleasure. You wanted to delve into the dark side and I plan on submerging you completely one day, however, for tonight, allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite tools.”

Reaching to the side and opening the top drawer of the bureau, Officer Hansen pulls out what appears to be a riding crop. He eyes it and you sneak a glance only to see something that might be mistaken as pride in his expression.

“This is my best tool. So easy when used to introduce the things I plan on teaching you this evening.’ His tone changes and you know that the Dom has come out to play. “On your knees, hand behind your head and eyes to the ground for now. You mustn’t utter a single word or make a sound unless I give you permission. To do so will result in immediate punishment.”

You fall to your knees and your face is at eye level with his crotch. His arousal is apparent, even as you look at the carpet and secretly you’re pleased but make tremendous effort to keep that from showing on your face.

“Watch me now but maintain your position.” You realize when he moves that you are in front of a floor to ceiling wall mirror and you can see everything in the room; there is another mirror positioned to give you a clear view of your backside. He’s working on unwinding a length of rope behind you. Soon he wraps a loops around yours wrists, making the tether tight enough so that you can’t move your hands apart but not so tight that you lose feeling in your hands. His arms and hands work faster now, tying knots and looping the rope around your torso. He loops it around each of your breasts and the way he positions and tightens it makes them bulge and lift. Your nipples are engorged and hard as stones and your chest heaves from the excitement of what he’s doing. Suddenly your wrists are pulled down towards the floor, behind your head and in turn the ropes turn vice-like on your breasts. You find it necessary to bend backwards at the waist and get an approving sound from Officer Hansen. He slips the Louboutin’s off of your feet but leaves the thigh high garters on as he secures the last of the length of rope to your ankles.  In this position your pussy is laid bare, spread open and you can feel the cold air conditioning as it invades your folds, accenting the wetness you’ve been carrying for so long now.

Officer Hansen grabs you around the waist and lifts you up onto the bed, positioning you so that you have the same practically 360 degree view as before. He spreads your knees a little wider, causing your cunt to open wider as well.

 Grabbing the chair you recently vacated he seats himself in front of you and unbuttons his shirt to his waist. The result is mind-blowingly beautiful, his chest is well-define and his abs look airbrushed. He’s smattered lightly with hair that matches his days old beard. He’s watching you as you watch him and he places the crop at your knees. He rolls his sleeves up like a man getting ready to delve into a job. You shiver as you realize you’re his job.

“You displeased me by being several minutes late and also by having an unapproved release in the cab. The apparatus was a specific device used to prove to you just how untrained you are. Right now you’re infatuated with the idea of pain mixing with pleasure. I’m going to train you to truly equate the two. You have an idea that being unsafe will make you feel alive. Little girl, it’s not being unsafe that will bring you to life, it’s my hands, my tongue, my whips and ropes, my instruction and this,” he says as he lifts the crop to your eye level, “This little leather covered implement will make you feel alive.”

Without signaling his intent he whips the crop firmly into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You gasp in surprise and he clicks his tongue at you. “Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” He asks as he arches an eyebrow at you. You expect the next lash and remain quiet even though the stinging is more intense with this one.

“Better. Now this,” he says as he lightly pulls on your clit, “Is the thing that all the girls rave about. They think it’s the only way to get off. They want you to lick it,” he says as he bends his face down and does that very thing, “Suck on it,” and he follows his words with the action again, “and rub it. They think that it’s their sex defined in one sensitive little bundle of nerves.” His finger rubs lazy circles on your clit and you do your best to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head. “But pet, your greatest sex organ is here,” he whispers lowly and grabs your head. “Your mind is the key to everything and I’m going to know yours inside and out. I’ll learn your deepest fears and your darkest secrets; I’ll use them for and against you. I will break you down to the basest form of yourself and rebuild you, starting here.” His hand rubs your scalp sensuously and you can’t help but to lean into his touch.

He sits back in the chair suddenly and unbuttons his pants. His cock springs out of the cloth captivity and every nerve ending in your body is on fire as you look at it.

“But for now,” he growls, his expression turning rather menacing, “I’m going to torture your pussy and it is pain that will give you an orgasm tonight, love. Not pleasure.”

Grabbing the riding crop he slaps you directly on your clit. The effort isn’t brutishly hard but the sting of the leather flap on the end hitting your engorged clit brings a surge of pain like you’ve never felt before. Tears well up in your eyes and you immediately begin to doubt that this is a good thing.

“Stings, yes? And already you’re anticipating the next one but when’s it coming?” Officer Hansen stands and walks into the bathroom. You can hear him pissing and then the sound of him washing his hands. He comes back into the room and leans over you, taking your mouth viciously with his own. His kiss hits like a hurricane, his tongue forces its way into your mouth and you don’t think you’ve ever been properly kissed until now. His lips are soft, like fleshy pillows and you relish the feel of them on yours. Your excitement is building again and you thrust your hips outward, trying to find anything to make contact with your aching cunt. Like lightning the crop meets your center again and you stifle the cry just in time. But something is happening, the throbbing that comes after each strike starts to feel close to what happens when you orgasm. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, willing yourself to take this lesson and learn what he means for you to. You’re struck again, this time not near as hard as before but still hard enough to feel the throbbing increase. Your inner walls start to pulsate and your nipples tighten.

“Look at me, don’t close your eyes again,” he growls and you look at him directly in the eyes.

Again he strikes, and the sensation deepens. You smell your own arousal and you know that Officer Hansen does as well, you watch as his pupils dilate so widely that they almost eradicate the colors of his irises.

“You have my permission to come now.”

The crop descends again and you’re overtaken with dark, scary,  waves of release. Your whole body jerks and the movement tightens the ropes, causing your orgasm to deepen. You refrain from making any noise because he didn’t give you permission to be vocal. Moisture pours out of you and soaks the bed beneath you. You’re panting, straining against the tight restraints and your eyes are filled with tears. They’re a combination of pain and relief and you’re not ashamed of them in the slightest.

Officer Hansen rolls you onto your side and begins the process of untying you. As the blood begins to flow freely back into your extremities you feel a strange euphoria overtake you. Using gentle hands to place you on your back, he arranges your arms and legs into a comfortable position and then returns to the chair.

“Feel free to sit when you feel ready. You also have permission to speak if you wish to.”

Your body has returned to something closer to normal but parts of you still feel alien. Your physical form has responded in a way that you never imagined it would and already you’re aching to feel the sting of his crop again. But what you really want is to return the favor and pleasure him. You sit up on the bed and turn to dangle your feet over the side.

“I’m very pleased with you, pet. You’ve surpassed my expectations for now and as I told you, I reward when it’s deserved. How can I compensate you?”

You climb off of the bed and crawl on all fours to his feet. Without a word you remove his shoes and socks and then start to pull his slacks down by the hems. He lifts his ass to make removing them easier. Your voice cracks as you speak without making eye contact or raising up off of your hands and knees. “May I please you with my mouth?”

“Come now darling, is that how you think a man wants to be asked? Try again and I might grant this even though I normally don’t allow actual contact of this sort so soon.” His voice is husky, the tone deep and sensual.

You clear your throat and try again, “I want you to reward me by letting me suck your cock, please. I’m begging.” You raise your eyes and look at his face. He smiles widely and the smile inches closer to reaching his eyes.

“Much, much better. You may…”


	4. Sidetracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to a private club and a revealing dinner. And a rival dom...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hotel: http://business.reachlocal.com/search/travel/hotels-motels-lodging/NY/Long_Island_City/Verve_Hotel/1c4624e/
> 
> The art of Kinbaku: http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b4/53/be/b453be1cde530d85ab43cfc8546616d5.jpg
> 
> The Butterfly: http://www.adameve.com/adult-sex-toys/vibrators/butterfly-vibrators/sp-wireless-venus-butterfly-14869.aspx
> 
> Jerrod: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0LJSESMsc4U/TdotBYHIT-I/AAAAAAAABaA/YSE0CdUjQxs/s1600/Benjamin-Godfre7.jpg
> 
> Restaurant: http://www.sidetracksny.com/index.html
> 
> Menu: http://www.sidetracksny.com/menus/DinnerST.pdf
> 
> I always try to use real places in my writing however it seems that all true BDSM clubs have gone underground so for authenticity I created my own club for this fic. <3

Edging closer to him, your eyes on your reward, you’ve never been more nervous. You’ve always enjoyed sucking cock. The power it gives you over a man is a head rush and you’ve always been an expert at winning the hearts and minds of men with your technique. But this is different; you know this isn’t a battle but an audition of sorts. He won’t come unless he wants to, he’ll be able to control the outcome of this little encounter just as well as he controls everything else. Suddenly you’re not as enthusiastic about this reward and decide to change your mind. You have an idea that you think will please this man more than tonguing his balls and sucking him off.

You stand and turn to the bed, carefully and reverently holding the riding crop in your hands. Turning back to him you don’t look him in the face but you kneel in front of him and raise the crop up higher.

“If I may, I would like to request more impact play lessons instead.”

“And what changed your mind? Speak freely.”

“I feel that this would be more suited to please you and would also further my lesson.”

He growls and the sound thrills you, even though you’re sure it’s a sound of disapproval. “I think you’ve had enough impact play for one night.”

“I beg to differ,” You argue, your voice rising slightly. You can’t help but to feel miffed. “I mean, it IS my reward.”

“Rewards and lessons should and SHALL remain two separate things, it’s necessary to stay on track with your training. To confuse the two would be catastrophic to what we are trying to achieve.”

You toss the whip onto the bed and rise up, glaring at him, fully defiant at this point.

“So you’re basically telling me that I HAVE to suck your cock, is that it?” You’re immediately sorry for what you’ve said when a dark, angry expression overtakes his handsome face.

“I am telling you no such thing,” Officer Hansen growls and stands, forcing you to fall on your ass. His voice is low and dangerous and you’re surprisingly turned on by the fear and the fact that you’ve gotten such a strong reaction out of him; until now he’s seemed unflappable. He grabs a length of rougher, heavier rope off of the table and picks you up around the waist with one arm.

“You’ll find that the seas of my temperament can and do change quickly when a sub decides to become defiant. Prepare yourself.”

Tossing you onto the bed he has you hogtied in record time. It’s nearly the same thing you’d seen at a rodeo once but he’s tied you so that you’re forced to keep your head lifted so that the rope doesn’t choke you. He picks up the phone, dials three digits and speaks rapidly in French. He doesn’t wait for a reply he merely hangs up and returns to the chair to face you.

“I explained to you a mere hour ago what I was and how I function in this setting. I don’t know what you’re playing at but I would never force anyone to do something they didn’t want to do. That’s rape and I’ve no need to rape anyone. Remember, YOU asked to suck my cock.”

There is a faint knock on the door and Officer Hansen smiles cockily at you. You hear the lock disengage and you know it’s Corrine before she comes into your field of vision.

They speak in French, his smile reaches his eyes with her and he caresses the side of her face affectionately; instantly you’re pissed. But not as pissed as when she kneels in front of him and starts to fondle his cock. He removes his shirt and you see his full nudity for the first time. You want to close your eyes to the glorious sight of him but you can’t. You want to shut out the sight of her head as it begins moving up and down, towards and away from his crotch. You’d kill  to blot out his expression of ecstasy as he gets his dick sucked by Corrine the desk clerk.

“Corrine…” he sighs as you helplessly watch her work him with her mouth. His hand is in her hair, fisting it as he nears his orgasm. His eyes lock with yours and you know his expression is _daring_ you to look away because to do so would be an invitation for further discipline. But now you don’t really want to look away because there’s something erotic happening here. It’s merely live porn, nothing that you haven’t watched numerous times before.

The sounds that Corrine makes as she takes him into her mouth, the sighs that escape his lips and the smell of sex and arousal that hangs thick in the air are a magic potion and you find yourself wiggling on the soft bed covers, trying to find purchase, trying to rub your pussy hard enough to make friction and get some relief for your painfully erect clit but he’s tied you up well, there will be no relief for the ache this scene is causing. Watching him receive pleasure is beautiful, even if you’re not involved physically.

His face tightens and his brow furrows but he never breaks eye contact with you. You can see peripherally that Corrine has sped up her actions and Officer Hansen’s breathing quickens. His hips thrust upwards to meet Corinne’s efforts but he never stops looking at you. He doesn’t even close his eyes as he shoots his cum into Corrine’s mouth, his body jerking, muscles taut and his mouth in a grimace. You feel small tremors in your pussy as you watch him orgasm. It’s delicious to see this man come, but you’re irked that it’s not you who has given him this release.

Corrine stands and calmly walks into the bathroom. You hear the water running and shortly she steps back into the room. She leans down and kisses Officer Hansen on the cheek and turns to you. She gives you a sickeningly beatific smile and says, “Adieu," then waves coquettishly at Officer Hansen before exiting the room. Your eyes turn back to the man in question and you see that he’s getting dressed.

“Corrine, as you might have guessed, is a former sub of mine. Things didn’t work out, she found an extremely jealous lover, married him, and it put a damper on her lessons. I had to let her go because she wasn’t committed. Although that isn’t to say that we don’t still fuck occasionally. Is this going to become an issue for you as well? Let me know now if you can’t commit fully to your training. I’m not a fan of wasted time and indecisive women.”

“No, it’s not going to be a problem.” You answer tersely. You can’t figure out what you’re so angry about, he doesn’t belong to you and admittedly you got off a little seeing him being pleasured by another woman.

“Good,” he smiles and starts untying you. “You need to tidy up and get dressed. We’re going out for a bit.”

“But I thought…”

“Your punishment is over, although by the look on your face during I’m not sure it was much of a punishment. Have you had a female lover before?” His expression is earnest, he’s not teasing her but seems instead to be seriously curious.

“I’ve fooled around with women a couple of times but not actually had, um… oral sex with them.”

“So you’ve never eaten a cunt or had a woman eat yours?”

You can’t stop the blush that spreads over your face and naked torso as you shake your head no. When was the last time someone actually had the power to make you turn a shade of red like this?

“Wow, that’s rather lovely,” he teases, tracing the outline of each nipple with his finger, “I shall do my best to make you turn that ravishing color more often.” Standing again he reaches into the bedside table drawer and pulls out a small device with elastic straps. “Lie back on the bed,” he commands and you do so without hesitation. He fasten the device which looks rather like a butterfly directly over your clit. One small elastic band fits around your waist and then one around each leg to hold the device in place.

“This, darling, is a clitoral stimulator. This,” he says, holding up a small silver cylinder, “ is the remote control for it which will remain in my possession. To show you how powerful the device is…” he clicks a button on the remote and the device springs to life, buzzing on your clit like a jackhammer. You gasp and buck your hips, looking at him in shock. It’s not the first time a vibrator has touched your cunt but for shits sake, the ones you’d bought and tried had never packed that sort of punch. “And now you know. The purpose, which I’m sure you’re wondering about, is to continue your training, your reconditioning. I don’t want your orgasms to be strictly physical; anyone can get off by having their pussy or cock stimulated. I want you to be able to resist physical stimulation and to open your mind to mental stimulation. When you’re fully trained, well… I won’t go that in-depth for now. I think you’ve had enough talk. Let’s get ready to go out.”

You stand and grab your dress. You see Officer Hansen open the small closet and pull out a black tee that you’re sure is going to hug every curve and muscle on his body and a pair of jeans. Some women might think he’d be under dressed compared to your Chanel but nothing could possibly look better on him in your opinion.

In the bathroom you grab a clean washcloth and wet it to clean your crotch and legs of the remnants of the past couple hours. You’re pulling your dress over your head when the stimulator springs to life and you gasp, reaching desperately for the counter top as the device shuts off again. You hear your tormentor chuckle from the other room as you silently curse the device he’s strapped on to you. How the hell are you going to be able to resist the delicious friction this thing sends straight to orgasm central? Inspiration hits; you decide to focus on the face that Officer Hansen made when you basically called him a would be rapist. It’s a face you never want to see again, especially if you’re the cause of it. Whenever he turns the clit-obliterator on you’ll just recall that face and burn it into your brain.

A little while and a short cab ride later you’re standing in front of an unassuming building that bears a simple sign. Red gothic lettering spells out “Duplicity” and you’re not sure what sort of deceitfulness they’re advertising. Using his hand on your back to guide you again, you wander into what looks like a typical sex shop. Dildos, lubricants and creams, pornography, fist sized butt plugs and full body latex suits abound. Everywhere you look there is another sort of kink ranging from mild to oh-my-fucking-god. But really, who are you to judge? After all you _were_ just hog-tied on a hotel bed while you watched your BDSM teacher get mouth-fucked by a French woman.

Officer Hansen nods at the fabulous Drag Queen manning (?) the counter as he pulls you into the back of the store and through a curtained off door. You head down a short hallway and you can hear the faint thumping of bass. Your teacher reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a door key tied on a long blue ribbon and inserts it into the lock that you can only barely make out in the dim lighting. Opening the door is sensory overload; the music blares, the flashing lights of what appears to be a club of some sort blind you and the smell assaults you. There’s sweat and sex mingling with a few other scents you can’t identify. Officer Hansen pushes you in and pulls the door closed behind you. Now you know the implied duplicity; while you’re sure the shop out front does a fine business it’s a front for this club . This isn’t one you’d ever find unless someone in the know brought you here.

Your eyes adjust and you begin to see the people around you; some are dancing solo, some with others. Some are fully clothed and some are in various states of undress including completely nude. While you don’t see any actual sex acts happening what you do see are acts of domination and submission. There are submissives who are acting as human furniture, holding drinks on their backs as they shape their bodies into a fleshy table of sorts and others are merely on their knees next to what are surely their doms. You panic, you’re not sure how he expects you to act or what you should be doing. As if he can read your mind he leans in close to your ear and speaks.

“You’re not here as a sub this time. I want you to observe and reflect, see everything there is to see. I’ll be gaging you, figuring out what you seem comfortable with and what scares or offends you. Trust me…”

You feel a finger sliding up the back of your leg, heading dangerously close to your ass without slowing. You know this isn’t Officer Hansen’s hand and you spin quickly, causing your skirt to flare out and show off your butterfly and bare ass to anyone who might have been looking.

“Excuse me?” You sputter as you scowl at a young man with an impossible beautiful face. You smack at his still intruding hand and lean in towards your teacher.

“Wow Tuck, you’ve got a live one here,” he shouts over the blaring techno. “Is she into being shared?”

“Fuck off Jerrod,” is the reply that Officer Hansen growls in return. “I wouldn’t share herpes with you if I had them.”

“Meow,” Jerrod pouts and then laughs. “Say I think I know you.” The man circles you both and makes an exaggerated effort to make you uncomfortable. “Aren’t you Emmaline Sloane, daughter of the late RJ Sloane. Trust fund baby,” he says, the last part in an annoying sing song voice. “Sorry about your dad. Bad way to go, underneath someone who wasn’t your mommy and all. Well bad for the family image anyway.”

“Didn’t I just ask you politely to fuck off?” Officer Hansen steps closer to Jerrod and leans in towards his face. His nostrils flare and you see Jerrod back off. You smile at the little victory. “Well now I’m telling you to go and fuck yourself right proper.”

Jerrod doesn’t answer, opting to smile sweetly at him instead. His face, although angelic, hides a truly black soul in your opinion and you can’t wait for him to do as he’s been told and fuck right off. He turns back to you and winks, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Emmaline baby.”

Officer Hansen jumps at him and Jerrod scurries away like a rat, laughing loudly.

“Is that guy… what, I mean, what?” You sputter unable to formulate a thought. You look at Officer Hansen for answers and he looks back at you like he’d rather do anything in the world except talk about Jerrod the Jerk any more. The butterfly springs to life and your knees weaken but you don’t respond in the same way as you had at the hotel. You’re thinking about your dead father and how your image of him was shattered when he’d been reported dead by his mistress. Fucking daddy issues, fucking cliché, atypical daddy issues.

“Come with me, I think you’ve had enough of this place for one night. I don’t want you to associate this scene with a bad memory. I apologize for that back there…”

You leave as quickly as you came and head back out into the cooler night air. The chill feels good, cleansing after the crowded club and your stomach growls loudly to protest all these hours without food or drink.

“Let’s get a bite, shall we?” You nod and Officer Hansen hails a cab. The ride is short and you’re only buzzed by the device once on the way to the restaurant. You can see him smile in your side vision when you don’t react.

The cab pulls up in front of a restaurant called Sidetracks. You’ve actually been here a couple of times previously and your stomach growls with happiness. Ever the gentleman, your Teacher helps you out of the cab and guides you into the restaurant. The hostess seems to know him and leads you both past a waiting line and to a small table near the bar. Your server is already waiting to take your drink order.

“I’ll have a apple martini,” you say as you devour the menu with your eyes.

“Water for me,” Teacher oozes, his accent posh and his voice low. It’s a different persona now than what you’re used to. This must be his public face. You stare at him and he mistakes your look. “I don’t drink alcohol, ever. I don’t like not feeling in control of myself.”

“I’ve been here before,” You offer, trying to change the subject to something more normal. You decide to order the same thing you’ve had both times you’ve dined here before. The chicken in sherry is delectable and your mouth waters in anticipation.

“I know, this is actually the first place I saw you in person. It was about a year ago. You were with someone I assume was your lover and you looked as if you’d rather be anywhere but.”

You feel the color drain from your face as you grasp the truth.

“Oh, you thought you’d found me, I suppose.” You nod, your ears are buzzing loudly and your hands are numb. “The truth is I’ve been sizing you up since I first heard about you, read about you in the social column. No one has ever found me, darling, I’ve always done the research and chosen my subs carefully. There have been a couple mistakes, you can’t ever _truly_ know someone until you’re deep inside their head. That is something that comes with time. But our encounters on the freeway weren’t by chance.”

Teacher (as you have now come to call him mentally) leans across the table and smiles at you, making your pussy throb and your heart race. If he hits that button right now you’ll be having a ‘When Harry Met Sally’ moment in the middle of this crowded restaurant. “When I saw you I could feel your unhappiness, I could tell that mealy-mouthed little cunt you were with wasn’t working your pussy, wasn’t making you come. He wasn’t even close to what you needed.” He smiles again and leans back in the seat as you become concerned that there might be a puddle forming underneath you.

You’re saved from wetting your seat further as the waitress comes back. You open your mouth to speak but Teacher cuts you off.

“The lady will have the sherry chicken and I’ll have the same.” He winks at you and closes the menu. You’re not surprised in the least that he knows what you were about to order.


	5. Earning it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, a prolonged cab ride and admissions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter than normal chapter. RL beckons but I didn't want to leave you lovelies without an update. Thanks a million times over for humoring me and reading. <3

Dinner is a sensuous affair if for no other reason than the sight of watching Teacher’s full and lush lips wrap themselves around the fork. He takes his time, closing his eyes and relishing each bite, sounds of utter ecstasy escaping him as he eats slowly. His jaws, already so defined, undulate as he chews. You’re completely mesmerized by this shameless mastication porn.

The butterfly buzzes to life and you glare at Teacher defiantly, proud of yourself that you don’t react. He gives you a closed-mouth smile and you relish the fact that you see small crinkles in the corners of his eyes. It’s the most genuine smile Teacher has given you to date.

“So,” you venture hesitantly, “Other than the obvious lack of social graces, what’s the tension between you and Jerrod?”

Teacher sighs and leans back into his chair. He contemplates the coffee your waitress has just served him and he sighs deeply. You feel immediately sorry you asked. “You don’t have to answer,” you gush as you stir sweet n’ low into your own cup of brew.

“No, it’s fine. I’m all about full disclosure with my subs.” Teacher sits up straight and rubs his hand across his face as if scrubbing at something. “Jerrod commandeered a sub from me once and he really messed her up, emotionally as well as physically. He is the type of Dom that gives the lifestyle and practices a bad name.”

Sensing he’s revealed as much as he’s willing to for now you don’t press the issue. You’re surprised that Teacher would be as upset over losing a sub as he seems to be; you didn’t take him for one who would become jealous but he IS a man and men are constantly getting into cock waving, pissing contests with each other.

Teacher reaches across the table and stills your hand; you’ve been furiously stirring your coffee while thinking. “Let me impress upon you the importance of staying away from Jerrod. He’s not only sick, he can be extremely dangerous. He already knows much more about you than I am comfortable with.”

“I’m not interested in Jerrod in the slightest. He can’t begin to do for me what you do…” Your voice trails off and you feel like you’ve said far too much. The waitress saves you again as she brings the check to the table. She’s giving Teacher some major fuck-me eyes and you want to slap the shit out of her and then slap her again for shitting but you can’t blame her; Teacher is bound to magnetically draw in anything with a cunt.

Reaching into his back pocket he pulls out his wallet and hands a credit card to the blushing young brunette and gives her a blinding smile. “Add a 40 percent tip for yourself, love.”

“So what now Emmaline?” You start at the sound of that lush accent pronouncing your name, drawing it out and making it sound like a sexual moan. “I’ve booked the room for the night, I’m on duty again tomorrow night and it might be a week before we can continue your lessons. Do you feel like spending the night or shall I hail you a cab?”

 You start immediately thinking about a million things when he asks you this. Should you stay with him the whole night? What’s implied if you do? Your mind wars with your pussy and somewhere in between your heart does a funny jig in your chest. You’re definitely down for all night crop adventures but you don’t know what he has envisioned.

“Yes, I would very much like to stay… Teacher.”

The cab ride back to the Verve is long because you’re stuck in traffic due to overnight road work. He doesn’t buzz you again although you do see his hand fondle the remote as if he might. He leans over and places his mouth very close to your ear; his breath is hot and tickles your lobe and neck when he breathes out.

“The first time I saw you in person you weren’t wearing any underwear. I was seated directly across from you and I saw straight up your dress.” You swallow hard and know that he’s telling the truth. That was about the time you’d decided to randomly start flashing men in public places, thinking that it was the sort of kink you could go home and think about while you fingered yourself furiously in the bath. “I saw that beautiful pink little cunt and the first thing I thought about was crawling under the table and sucking your clit so hard you’d scream and come all over my face.”

Your pussy spasms and a light moan escapes you.

“Then the second little daydream I had while sitting at that table looking up your dress, was following you to the bathroom, introducing myself and then shoving you face first into the wall. I would have hiked that dress up over your ass and fucked you furiously from behind. I wouldn’t have cared who saw or heard and I don’t think you would have either.”

Moisture seeps out of you in rivulets; you’re so fucking turned out that mentally you’re begging him to buzz you so you can get off in the backseat of this dirty fucking cab. You’re sure he knows this and that’s why you’re also sure that he won’t do it.

He leans in a bit closer and his tongue flicks your earlobe. You can’t suppress the shiver this time and he gives a short, sexy laugh. “But I would have had all that wrong, pet. Because you don’t need some quick fuck in a dark hallway, you need someone to understand just how deep your kink runs, someone who can help you realize your full potential. You do understand that as of tonight you are mine. No one else will ever be able to make you come as hard as I can.”

Reaching up under your dress he unsnaps the butterfly device and it falls away from you. His hand parts you and you feel the cool night air from the open window rushing in. His breath hitches and you can feel his eyes on you, looking at you, waiting for a reaction. You hold your breath and look ahead of you at the endless sea of tail lights. He takes his hand away and your dress drops down to cover you. Another chuckle as he sees your distress. You’re close, so fucking close to losing it, to having an orgasm. Your clit throbs with every beat of your heart, your core is hot, wet velvet and your mind is working overtime, remembering how it felt when Teacher spanked your cunt with the crop. You crave the sting, the glorious torture of his toy bringing you to life in a way you’d never experienced before.

You feel like you might sob any minute, your clit is so erect, so engorged with your arousal that it seems as if it’s on fire. You’re panting, aching but you won’t look at him, won’t let him see clearly the distress you’re in.

He leans in close to your ear again and fills it with his hot breath as he mutters three words. “You have permission.”

Over the edge and into the abyss; you don’t care about the worried stare of the cabbie or the startled looks of the people in the taxi next to you. The fact that the sobs coming out of you as you drench the faux leather seat are loud and mixed with crazy sounding laughter doesn’t faze you. Teacher has just made you come with words. He never stimulated anything except your mind.

You hear Teacher talking with the cabbie, giving him extra fare for the bother of a flooded back seat and he’s pulling you out of the cab, supporting you around your waist and helping steady you. You feel like a newborn colt with wobbly legs as you try painfully to walk in the ridiculously high Louboutin heels. It takes the two of you over thirty minutes to walk back to the Verve but you still make better time than you would have in the taxi.

Back safely in the room teacher lays you on the bed and slips the Louboutins carefully off of your feet. “These really are just lovely, I’ve a thing for Louboutin and Jimmy Choo,” he chuckles as he sets them carefully to the side.  

You smile, pleased that he can appreciate your taste in footwear. “Would you mind handing me my purse?”

He reaches behind you on the bed and grabs your Michael Kors handbag. You smile sheepishly as you explain, “I take Versed to sleep, I’m an insomniac and in the rare times that I do sleep I have horrible nightmares. If you want any sort of rest tonight then I need to take this now.”

Teacher doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks to the bathroom. He comes back with a plastic cup of water and hands it to you at the same time that he offers his hand to help you sit up.

“Any particular reason you have such bad dreams?” he doesn’t look at you as he asks; instead he wanders over to the window and looks out, crossing his arms and widening his stance.

“Well, they really started after my father died. Pretty pathetically typical huh?”

“You can’t gage someone’s pain against the pain of others,” he replies as you swallow the pills.

“I suppose.”

Let’s get undressed and just get into bed. I need rest; my shift starts at 6 tomorrow evening and I’m extremely tired.

You nod and stand to remove the Chanel, you’re so worn out yourself that you’re sure you could have slept easily without the sedative but you know that you wouldn’t have stayed asleep. He takes your garment and hangs it beside a few things in the small closet. You sit back on the bed to unroll the thigh high garters.

“Come to the shower.” It’s not a demand exactly but you know you don’t have the options of turning him down.

You turn and find him totally nude. It’s the first unfettered view you’ve had of his body. He has many more tattoos than you originally thought and the sight of them takes your breath away. Your eyes go second to his trapezius muscles; their definition and height are incredible. Lastly your gaze makes its way down the V of his torso and falls upon his cock. He’s uncircumcised and the length and girth of him are entirely intimidating and he’s not even erect.

Following him into the bathroom you recall that the shower is much larger than a normal hotel shower; this one is actually large enough for four people to stand comfortably in and there is a separate garden style tub for bathing. You’re sure this bathroom is part of the reason he must request this room.

Teacher opens the clear glass shower door to turn the water on and steam fills the room. You can feel your muscles starting to relax from the Versed combined with the Apple Martini and the events of the night. Stepping into the hot stream is heaven and you feel Teacher press up behind you, forcing you further into the water. He turns you and eases your head back into the flow, wetting your hair. Grabbing the small bottle of hotel shampoo he gently and carefully lathers your hair, washing it expertly and then follows by washing the rest of your body. You’re so relaxed that you can’t formulate a thought; too soon it seems the water turns off and Teacher is toweling you off with a thick fluffy rectangle of cotton.

You’re slipping under the spell of the medication quickly and Teacher must be able to tell. He picks you up like a child and carries you to the bed. Your finger lazily traces the outline of his traps before he places you gently on the cool, soft sheets.

You hear a phone ringing and you know it’s not yours; your ringtone is some bunny-hugger Bon Iver bullshit that you keep meaning to change but always forget to. Your mind is melting, bleeding into dreamless oblivion as you hear teacher speaking to someone. You can’t make out entire sentences, only bits and pieces and none of it makes much sense to your chemically slowed brain.

“FDR… no I won’t consider coming back. My lifestyle should have no bearing job… happy where I am with the PD… miss you too, brother.”

You have more questions than consciousness left and soon you black out.


	6. The End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your visuals for this chapter:
> 
> The Zac Posen Dress: http://www.neimanmarcus.com/product_assets/B/2/6/K/7/NMB26K7_mx.jpg?01AD=3u2KdBtn5RGc66i10L8faFtbPtesEbO15ZZ7uylGWbcaaln69LKP82g&01RI=FB16A3FBD2CFC9E&01NA=
> 
> The Jimmy Choo heels: http://www.mycolorfashion.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/05/Jimmy-Choo-Anouk-patent-leather-pumps-3.jpg
> 
> Pelham Country Club: https://www.memberstatements.com/login/login.cfm?destination=

Chapter 6

It’s been four days since you woke up alone in the room at The Verve. You were surprisingly disappointed to find yourself without Teacher. There had been a note on the nightstand telling you that he would be in touch as soon as work permitted.

Your mind wanders back to the cryptic conversation you heard half of before succumbing to the high dose of Versed. It never occurred to you to think of what Teacher did outside of the lifestyle you were learning and law enforcement. And what kind of fucking name was FDR? Thinking that perhaps you’d imagined or hallucinated the whole thing you’d tuck it away into the back of your mind.

Boredom is setting in quickly. If you were dead before Teacher then you’re in a suspended state when he’s absent from your life. There are no calls, no texts, no emails; he knows how to contact you but you have no clue how to get in touch with him. While you’ve toyed with the idea of speeding down random freeways you know he won’t contact you until he’s ready. It revs your engine and deflates you a little at the same time.

Men have always been at your beck and call; friends, lovers, friends who happened to also be lovers. They’ve always come running when you beckon. Whether it was your looks or the prestige of your wealth and family name, it’s always been a matter of snapping your fingers and a man pretty much appeared. Sometimes it had been about sex but the act of fucking was never satisfactory. Sometimes it was just a longing to feel a warm body beside you and if you had to suck a cock to keep someone there all night you weren’t above that. But none of that would ever work to quell the emptiness anymore, not even for a little while. Teacher is the only answer to every question now and so you wait.

The walls close in a little more every day. You think about hopping a plane to somewhere exotic but you change your mind; what happens if he calls and you’re in Bali? You’d lose your mind trying to get back as soon as possible, you crave him that badly.

Deciding that you can’t stay inside these walls another minute you shower and dress. You choose a deep burgundy Zac Posen dress with black accents, thinking of how Teacher would admire you in this color and cut. You curl your naturally wavy hair into ringlets and fix it in an up do that would make any girl you know jealous. Your raven black hair has always been a source of pride in yourself and envy in others. You’re sans panties as usual but you’re wearing the same thigh highs as you’d worn on your first night of lessons. They still smelled of Teachers cologne and it is an immense turn on to picture his hands rolling them down your legs. The Jimmy Choo Anouk pumps that you’ve been looking for an excuse to wear are painful as fuck but extremely appropriate for the man you’re thinking of.

Having had the doorman call you a cab you head downstairs and out into the evening air. It’s chilly enough to merit a coat but you don’t want to deny the world a view of this dress. You’re out to impress and also to let your friends know that you’re not dead and also to let them see the all too apparent change in you. You’re a woman with a secret that’s got you all lit up from the inside out and you truly want to rub it in the faces of your socialite frenemies, ex-lovers and friends of the family.

The taxi ride is brief; Pelham Country club is a mere 15 miles outside of the city and traffic isn’t an issue. While Pelham isn’t the largest it is the most exclusive country club and is where your father procured lifetime memberships for himself and his wife and daughter. It’s where your entire circle gathered this time of evening before heading out to the grittier clubs in the city. You haven’t been here since your first sexual encounter with Teacher on the hood of his squad car.

Walking in to the dining room you notice many heads snap around when you enter. A hush comes over the room and you smile, getting the desired result already has your pussy throbbing with delight. Wendy Rockefeller of THE Rockefellers waves at you, motioning for you to join her table. You smile and head her way even though she is an utter backstabbing cunt. She’s exactly the person you want to notice the change in you.

“Emmaline, doll!” She gushes with faked enthusiasm, “you must join us and tell us what you’ve been up to!”

“Why thank you Wendy, I don’t mind if I do!” Wendy’s boyfriend, Cruise Kristopher, son of a shipping Magnate and someone who’s been sniffing around you for years, stands and pulls your seat out. He smiles smarmily at you and makes no effort to hide his gaze as he eyeballs your cleavage.

“So Emmy, dear heart, do tell me what sort of work you’ve had done, you’re looking soooo different,” Wendy snarls as she looks at her own enhanced reflection in the butter knife of her place setting. She knows you’ve had no work done, you can’t keep that shit a secret in this town when you’re from a prominent family. Everyone knows Wendy has had three nose jobs, seven augmentations and had her cunt tightened.

“Ahhh Wendy, some of us don’t need to visit the plastic surgeon on a weekly basis, some of us are just well put together.” Wendy drops the knife, shocked that you’ve said anything in retaliation. In the past you’ve just not cared enough to retort but now there’s a fire in you that wasn’t there before.

Cruise laughs and Wendy throws daggers at him with her eyes.

“So tell me then, Miss Perfect, what’s gotten into you? Who’s fucking that rank gash of yours this week?” The gloves are off now and you smile outwardly and inside. You lean over and rub your hand up and down Cruise’s leg, then push it upwards into his crotch. He stiffens instantly and moans while you smile sweetly at Wendy.

“Well, it seems that I could be fucking just about anyone I want,” You say and roughly grab Cruise’s balls, making him gasp, “But if you must know you plastic whore, I have someone who works me so well that I don’t feel the need to come around here and deal with the likes of you boring assholes anymore.”

“So why are you here then?” Wendy fumes, her eyes taking in the look on her boyfriend’s face as you fondle his erection. You lean over towards the man and you whisper in his ear just loud enough for him and Wendy to hear.

“I just wanted all of you to know that I have someone who can have me wet with a word, make me pant with a look and having me screaming while I come on his tongue so many times a night that it would make your heads spin. I come so hard, so many times that my pussy aches all the time now.”

Cruise stiffens in his seat and you know that he’s shot a load in his pants and so does Wendy.

“You’re a lying, cheap whore just like your mother.”

You stand and let out a furious sound, drawing the attention of nearby tables.

“No Wendy Rockefeller, I would never entertain the thought of a threesome with you and Cruise!” You do your best to look insulted and incensed as Wendy sputters. “I’m leaving and you can both be assured that I will be speaking with management about this harassment. That,” you yell indignantly while pointing to the spreading cum stain on the front of Cruise’s pants, “is disgusting! People are dining here you miscreant!” Cruise leans in and covers his pants with the cloth napkin but you know that everyone in here will stare when he stands.

Turning on the ridiculous heels of the Jimmy’s you head out of the dining room and out to the line of cabs waiting for return trips into the city. You’d come here with the intention of having dinner and finding someone to go clubbing with you but had realized rather quickly that you couldn’t bear the company of anyone there. That is your old life, your old social circle and there is no going back. You’d just made sure of that. While Wendy might be flustered now she won’t stay down for long and she most certainly won’t let what you’ve just pulled go without some retaliation. You’re looking forward to it.

You decide that you’re famished but you’re unsure of where to have dinner. Out of nowhere you give the address of Sidetracks to the driver. If you can’t be with Teacher you can at least go somewhere you’ve been with him before, somewhere to feel closer to him.

The ride is longer into the city and by the time you get there the restaurant is nearly empty and you’re starved beyond belief. You request the same table you’d shared with Teacher and as you sit you look sadly at his empty seat. You order an apple martini and the sherry chicken and wait.

Your mind wander to the sight of your naked Teacher, the way his hips are sculpted, the V shape that draws your eyes to his cock and then you’re thinking about what it must feel like to have that cock pumping into you, how delicious it would feel to have the weight of him pressing down on you. Thinking about the intimacy of actually fucking Teacher is almost too much to bear, the idea of your cunt swallowing him whole like a greedy mouth, milking him until he comes inside of you has you wet and pulsating. You fan yourself with the dessert menu placard and smile.

“Apple martini?” This isn’t the voice of the server who had taken your order. You look up and see Jerrod standing over you, looking prettier than a man should be able to. His mouth is in a perfect pout and it doesn’t seem to be anything he’s conscious of. You could sigh looking at him if you didn’t know what a black little heart he had.

“What do you want Jerrod?” You ask, looking down at the dessert menu to convey your disinterest.

“May I sit?”

You don’t answer, thinking your silence might send him away but instead he takes it as an okay and violates Teachers chair with his toned ass. You sigh loudly and roll your eyes.

“Emmaline, I think you might have the wrong impression of me,” He says innocently as he pushes your Apple martini towards you. You pull it out of his reach and sip it, refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’m sure Tuck has told you some horrible lie about me, he’s never liked me, but I want to set the record straight. He probably told you that I stole one of his little girls but it simply isn’t true. She approached me, asked me to take her own because Tuck wasn’t fulfilling her needs.”

You snort and take another drink of the martini, still refusing to favor this jerk with words.

“I know all about you Emmaline, I know you’ve suffered a lot of hurt in your life. You need someone who understands that and I do. I lost my father too.”

No, no, no! This prick isn’t going to come at you this way, clever little bastard that he is. “From what I’ve heard you’re quite the fucking butcher.”

Your lips feel numb, your brain is fuzzy and you hear that shitty Bon Iver ringtone going off in your Kors bag.

“Lies! If this were true why haven’t I been arrested? Why am I still allowed into the underground and Duplicity? I think Tuck is afraid he might lose another little girl to me. I am the better choice.”

You dig through your bag, searching for your phone and finally find it.

“Hello?” You call out but your voice sounds funny to your own ears, slurred.

“What the fuck are you doing dining with Jerrod?” It’s Teacher and he’s pissed, the venom in his voice seeps through your cell and into your mind like snakes.

“I din.. he won’t… teacher?” You can’t formulate a clear sentence. You look around and everything is covered in bright colors and your vision is a series of trails.

Jerrod is reaching for your phone, his smile has turned vicious. You lean back into the seat, holding on to the cell for dear life. “Help me,” you manage to call out, distress evident in your voice.

You hear Jerrod talking to someone, “I think she’s on something. No don’t call an ambulance I know her, I’ll take her to the ER. She doesn’t need the publicity, she just lost her dad.”

The sincerity in his voice will fool anyone who doesn’t know that he’s slipped something into your drink. You feel his arms hook around your waist and heave you onto your feet.

“Fuck you,” you slur and try to push him away but his arms are like a vice around you. He’s pulling you towards the front door and you know you’re going to be in danger if he gets you outside.

“Now, now Emmaline, don’t be like that. I only want to help you.”

From the corner of your eye you see a blurred shape charging into view and you hear Jerrod gasp. You’re falling now as the wall of whatever charged you grabs Jerrod and throws him like a piece of paper onto the sidewalk outside. A flash of blue, the sound of fists beating into something fleshy, Jerrod howling in pain and then you’re floating.

You don’t know how much time has passed since your last memory. Everything is jumbled and jagged inside of your mind. You open one eye and see coffee colored walls that aren’t familiar to you in the slightest. The bed you’re on is small and comfortable with dark chocolate colored, soft sheets. You’re naked and utterly confused. Where the fuck are you?

You sit up in the bed and look around, your head throbbing and your stomach queasy. There is nothing here to indicate where you are and who brought you here. You look around for your clothes and see no sign of them. Standing slowly, your legs feel boneless and you steady yourself for a good five minutes by holding on to the bedside table.

 

Walking to the door seems like an impossible journey. You know you’ve been drugged. One hand goes to your crotch and you feel around down there for something to indicate that you’ve been raped. There is no soreness, no bleeding to see as you inspect your fingers. Bits and pieces of memory come back to you but you don’t trust most of them yet. You’d gone to Pelham; you remember the scene you’d caused with Wendy and Cruise. Where had you gone after that? What had happened?

Seeing a bathroom off to the right you drag yourself to the sink, drinking handfuls of water from the faucet. Your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve eaten sand. It doesn’t take long for it to make a return trip back up and out. Luckily you’re close enough to the toilet to not make a mess.

Sitting on the cold tile floor in front of the toilet you lose it. You’re crying now, confused and disoriented and more scared than you can even admit to yourself. You hear someone coming into the room behind you and you cover your face with your forearms, shielding your eyes and your mind from reality.

“Please…” you wail, too scared to even beg for mercy.

“Emmaline, it’s me.”

“Oh,” you sob, looking up into a face that floods you with relief, “oh Teacher…” The words come out in shuddering bursts and he lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the bed. He lays you gently onto the mattress and climbs in beside you. His arms encircle you and his hands smooth your hair as he coos gently to you.

“Shhhh,” he whispers, rubbing light circles on your bare back. “You’re ok, you’re safe here.”

“I didn’t… he was just there and… oh my fucking god he drugged me and he would have…”

“I know, I know everything Emmaline. You’re ok though, he didn’t hurt you. I got to you in time and I’m so sorry this happened.”

“What? Sorry? You saved me from that fucking creep!” You sputter confused as to why Teacher is apologizing to you.

“But if it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be on his radar. It’s my fault.” Teacher kisses the top of your head and pulls away from you. “That’s why I’m ending this. It was a mistake to take another sub on. Especially someone as noticeable as you. You’re exactly the type Jerrod looks for and I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You shake your head no, pulling yourself up onto your knees on the bed. “No, you can’t.”

“I have to.”

“NO!” you scream and point at him. “You aren’t going to do this to me. You aren’t leaving me or turning your back on me. I refuse!”

Teacher shakes his head slowly and smiles sadly at you, “I don’t want to but I don’t have a choice. I can’t have any more blood on my hands. And I’m leaving the city. My little incident with Jerrod was filmed by several people and I’ve lost my job with the force. I guess it’s not okay to beat someone into a coma when you’re in uniform, no matter the reason.”

You shake your head, the information flooding your mind too rapidly and blanketing your thoughts with confusion.

“So because of me, you don’t have a job anymore and you’re leaving. You don’t want to endanger me but what do you think is going to happen once you’re gone and Jerrod is healed? Do you think this is just going to go away? And you’ve no idea how I’ve fucked things up with my own crowd. When you go… if you leave me… I won’t have anyone.” You settle onto your heels on the bed, your hands clasped in front of you and you’ve never felt more alone in this world; not even when your father died.

“I can’t love you. I can’t even begin to try to. I’m not made that way Emmaline.” Teacher whispers, refusing to meet your teary stare

“I don’t want your love. I want your cock, I want your punishment and I want you to fuck me but I don’t NEED your god damned love. I need you to fuck me!”

The wall of him crashes into you and you fall back onto the bed, his weight crushing you. You can’t pull air into your lungs but you don’t care. His mouth is on your tit, biting it and drawing a scream from you.

“You want to be properly fucked? I can do that,” he growls into the side of your face as he pulls your hair roughly, yanking your head to the side as his teeth pull on the sensitive skin of your neck. “Get on your knees. NOW.”

You comply as quickly as you can. Your reactions are slowed by the drugs still making their way through your system but the passion in you is white hot and burns. Once on your knees Teacher forces your head down into the sheets and pulls your arms back. You feel the cold metal of handcuffs and hear the clicking as he cuffs your arms behind you.

You scream as he buries his face in your pussy, his tongue furiously fucking your hole as your first orgasm hits with blunt force. You can feel your cunt contract around his tongue as it stabs at you and laps up the flood of your release.

You’re still panting, when you feel something cold being smeared onto and inside of your asshole. Something is being forced into your ass and the size of it is much bigger than the glass dildo of the chastity belt. You shriek as you’re slowly stretched by something.

“This is the biggest plug I have and I’m not stopping until this is inside you. Once this is in I’m going to fuck you and it’s going to be like nothing your cunt has ever felt before. You want this? You want to be properly fucked? Tell me, say ‘Yes, Master’.” His hand comes crashing down onto your ass cheek and you gasp. The plus is pushed in further and you moan with the feeling. His hand makes contact with your other cheek and you scream this time.

“Yes, master!”

With one last effort the plug slides inside of you and your pussy is throbbing with aching desire.

“Little girl, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into but you’re about to fucking find out,” Teacher growls into your ear as he lifts you off of the bed by your waist. Still cuffed and wobbly on your feet, he carries you to the living room. You’re surprised to recognize the skyline from his windows view. His building is not far from your own and is even more expensive than yours. He’s either on or near the top floor from the looks of it.

He sets you on your feet in front of the picture window and presses your face and chest into it. Your body feels full from the plug and you can feel the moisture from your arousal run down your leg. You feel his muscled arm come around your waist and his hand makes its way to your cunt. His fingers part you as he bites the back of your neck.

You open your eyes and see the street lights in Central Park come on as the sun is setting. All of New York is below you as Teacher fingers and pinches your clit.

“Are you always this wet or is it just for me?” His tone is sex, his voice low and dangerous. He pulls your hair when you take too long to answer.

“Only for you! I’ve never been this wet for anyone!” Tears flow freely down your face, part relief and partly from the pain of the plug in your ass. Teacher turns your head to the side and licks the tears off of your cheek.

“So fucking sweet.”

You feel him pull your hips back and position something cold at your entrance. He slides it in, it’s a tremendous rubber cock and it’s stretching you with its size, making you cry out. The feeling of the cock pressing your walls into the anal plug is heaven and hell at the same time. Pain co-mingles with intense pleasure and soon you can’t tell the difference nor do you want to. His one hand is fisted in your hair and he pulls on every strand at once as he shoves his toy roughly into you.

“Is this what you wanted? Answer me!” He grunts through his exertion.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” You sob, needing the feeling of him pumping into you as much as air.

“Harder. Beg me and you’d better be convincing.”

“FUCK!” you scream as the cock head makes contact with your g-spot, “Please Teacher, please fuck me harder!”

“Very good,” he laughs as he slams it into you hard enough to shake the window. You feel another release building, your cunt quakes with the feeling and Teacher notices.

“You do NOT have permission to come! You will only come on my cock, do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes teacher…” you moan, turning your concentration to holding back your orgasm against what seem like impossible odds.

“If you come before I tell you to there will be punishment. This isn’t a game and I’m not fucking kidding.”

You believe him with every fiber of your being. The threat comes through loud and clear and the mind fuck aspect of it all pushes you closer to the edge of no return. Only the thought of Teachers displeasure; the sight of the face you never want to see keep you in check.

Teacher pulls the toy out of you suddenly and demands that you squat, making it easier to remove the plug. Bending you over a settee he shoves the same fake cock into your ass roughly. The size of the plug having stretched you greatly makes this intrusion easy. The feel of him sliding it into you is overwhelming; he’s fulfilling a fantasy you’ve never even told him about. He grunts and the sound connects directly to your center. Hearing his pleasure at plundering your ass is better than the feeling of him pumping in and out of you.

He withdraws the toy from you again and rolls you over onto your back. The pull of your arms in the handcuffs is painful and you wince but he shows you no mercy instead choosing to shove your back down harder into the biting metal.

Pushing your legs up, he exposes your clit, its hard erectness shoving it out of its hood and displaying it.

His lips encircle it and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of his full lips as they pull on it, suck it and then release it. His eyes never leave yours, looking for any signs of you disobeying his orders.

“I could eat your pussy all night. You taste like honey,” he says and runs his tongue all the way from your hole to your clit and back again. “You want to come so bad don’t you?” You nod, tears flooding your eyes again. “Yeah, you want to come but I won’t let you. Not until you beg me properly.” His hand appears and smacks you hard on your pussy and you feel the tremors start again. You’re so close…

“Please Teacher, may I come? Please, please please…” your eyes close as you beg, using all your concentration.

“Not yet, pet.” He laughs and leaves you alone on the settee. You don’t dare move. He comes back with the riding crop and your cunt convulses at the sight of it. He’s determined to make you come before he’s giving you permission it seems, he’s set on punishing you and you’re almost to the point of giving in. But the sight of his angry face comes back and you buck up your resolve.

The crop slaps out a wicked cadence on your clit and you stifle the moan but you don’t come. You’re not going to come until he’s inside you.

“Fighting it so well, such a brave little girl. I can smell you; I know you’re right there, so close. What are you waiting for? Answer me.”

“Your cock…” you gasp, “and permission.”


	7. What words can't express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding out more about Teacher than you ever thought you would can be orgasmic.

Teacher looks down at you, his expression changes for a brief second and then the concentration comes back, the look of determination is strong again. He runs the tip of the crop over your nipples, making your chest heave even harder.

“You’re a quick study, Emmaline.” Your breath catches in your chest, he’s never used your real name during a lesson before and you know you’ve somehow earned it. “Or perhaps you’re still just being fucking defiant and you’ve not learned anything at all.” He throws the crop on the floor and backs away from you, leaning his body against the picture window on the other side of the room.

You’re confused; does he want you to come or not? What is the right thing to do in this situation? Your mind races; if you succumb and orgasm you’re disobeying. If you don’t come you’re showing defiance and you’re disobeying. FUCK. You’re thinking too hard, too much time is passing and you can see the look, the one you don’t want, clouding his expression. You throw thought and caution to the wind, reacting solely on instinct. You roll over onto your stomach and then onto the floor. Prostrating yourself on your knees, balancing your torso with your forehead you maneuver yourself around and find the crop where he threw it. Grabbing it between your teeth you slowly raise up onto your knees and with eyes cast to the floor you crawl to him. You stop short of him and sit back, resting your ass on your ankles.

Minutes pass and you don’t raise your eyes, you don’t drop the riding crop, and you just sit on your crossed ankles with your hands still cuffed behind your back. This is another lesson, you can feel it. He’s testing you to see if you’ll become sullen or lash out at his silence.

The seconds tick by, your hands and feet are numb and you’re drooling all around the  crop that hangs between your teeth and lips. You’re starting to feel almost an out of body feeling, your head becoming lighter, the colors of the fading daylight through the window behind teacher play in muted patterns across the carpet that separates you and Teacher making you feel almost high. The throbbing in your cunt is the only thing that has remained steady; the pulsating ache of wanting him inside you keeps you sane and stable. You know that if only you pass this test you’ll be rewarded with what you want, what you crave.

Teacher finally moves and walks a circle around you; you don’t raise your eyes to confirm but you can feel him looking you all over from every possible angle. He growls lowly, the sound coming across as approval and your heart flutters wildly.

His hands grab the  chain of the cuffs and you feel him unlocking them. Your arms, numb from holding their position too long, flop uselessly to the side once they’re freed. He takes the crop from between your teeth and you could actually cry with relief once your jaws are free to unclench. Picking you up once again he lays you gently on the couch and leaves. You want to cry out to him but you refrain. You know he’s not going to disappoint you.

You hear water running from another room and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax to the sound of the flowing liquid. You’re almost asleep when Teacher comes back and picks you up effortlessly off of the couch.

“You’ve done extremely well Emmaline. Now I’ll reward you.” His voice is a soft yet scratchy purr in your ear and you almost reach that pinnacle you’ve been staving off for so long from that sound alone.

He carries you into what you know must be the master bedroom and through a connecting door to the master bath. He lowers you gently into a large tub and the hot water instantly starts working to loosen the muscles held tense for so long in the living room. Your eyes are heavy but you fight to stay awake. Looking up at Teacher for the first time you see him removing the black tee over his head. You sigh as you see the muscles in his chest and arms undulate with the effort. He slides the gym pants down his legs and when the white boxers follow his cock springs out.  He slides into the tub and raises you up, positioning himself behind you. The feel of him there as he pulls you back is thrilling but you’re so tired, so achy and the warmth of the bath is so soothing. His hands run gently up and down your arms, rubbing circles into the muscles that had been strained by the cuffs. He makes the same motion on your calf muscles with the heels of his feet.

He moves his attention to your shoulders and you can’t stop the sigh of bliss that escapes you. This isn’t the reward you wanted but you haven’t got it in you to tell him. You’re in heaven right now, his hands are magic and you stop fighting the feeling of going under.

“Teacher,” you sigh and then there is nothing.

8888

 

Your eyes are still heavy but you know enough to know that you’re no longer in the bathtub. You’re on the silky softness of sheets that smell of Teacher. You look around, too tired to lift your head and you see him sitting in a chair looking out the large bedroom window. You can see that he’s still nude but he’s lost in thought when he should be lost in between your thighs instead. His profile is the stuff of movie stars and Hollywood legends; his nose noble and pointed, his lips as lush from this view as the front and his chin strong and proud.

“I should be letting you go now, sending you on your way.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. Haven’t you already been through this. The physical pain is something you crave but the mental anguish this is bringing is not something you’re equipped to deal with. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off before you utter a word.

“I’ve never been good with relationships, the dominant part of me was always fighting to present itself in every situation. And fight it I did. I had to for the sake of my marriage, for the sake of my job and for the sake of the sad little cage I’d built for myself.”

You roll over onto your stomach and crawl to the edge of the bed nearest him. Propping up on your elbow you merely listen to him as he tells you more than you thought you would ever know about him.

“But no matter how I tried to be a normal mate, a normal friend and a good Agent, hiding my nature and the things that I craved were too much. My frustration bled into everything. The fights with my wife Katie grew more intense, tension between my partner FDR and I work were immeasurable and my anger ended up being taken out of people I was supposed to merely apprehend. I was clearly required to live a double life because of my job, but to have to lead a triple life was too much and I snapped.”

He stops and turns to look at you. “If this is more than you want to know about me then stop me now. This may not be part of what you want from me.”

“I want to know whatever you feel like sharing with me,” you whisper, afraid that if you’re too eager he’ll dry up.

“Katie was the first casualty. She divorced me and took our son and I’ve seen neither since. I’d stopped having sex with her because I was afraid I would take it too far, that I would scare her. She wasn’t into the idea of the things I wanted at all. My job was next, I required top clearance and it’s impossible to keep anything in your life secret. When Katie left I went on a sex rampage, haunting every fuck club in New York, looking for something that would scratch my itch. It all came back on me and I was given a choice, curtail my extracurricular activities or lose my job. For me there was no going back.”

Teacher leans forward in his chair and rubs his face roughly. You’re transfixed on that imperfect pinky as you watch the motion. “The last tie to my old life was my best friend, my only friend, FDR. He never understood or forgave me for leaving him behind when I moved here. He calls infrequently, asking me to come back to my old position, telling me he’s never even considered taking another assigned partner. He just doesn’t understand the pull, the desire of dominating, controlling everything any more than I can understand how he lives with such a lack of order and reason.”

Teacher stands and walks towards you, stopping short of the bed. “I should cut you loose because you’ll never be safe with me as long as people like Jerrod exist. If I were a less selfish creature I would have you dress and walk out of my life right now. But I am the most selfish person you’d care to meet Emmaline because I crave controlling you, I crave the sound of my crop as it slaps your clit, I need the sounds you make as you fight those sweet tears that taste like heaven to me. I don’t want to lose the way it feels to watch you learn what I have to teach. I’ve never had a sub quite like you and I’m not able to give you up. But I’m afraid that one day I won’t be enough, that you’ll want something more than I can give. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I just don’t know how to love someone. At least not in the typical sense. Maybe someday there won’t be anything left that I can teach you and you’ll walk away.”

He looks at you, waiting for you to say something, anything.

“What I know is this; I need the things you do for me and teach me. I also know that tomorrow isn’t promised so what good does it do to worry about things beyond this minute? I’m not like most women. I don’t crave love or affection; I crave what _you_ give me. Pain so close to pleasure that I can’t tell the difference nor want to. I crave your approval, I crave the challenge of earning it and I crave the way you’ve made me come alive.”

Teachers look has changed, become predatory and he stalks his way to the bed. The air in the room has changed and you shiver.

Reaching into the bedside table he pulls out four lengths of rope and in a short time you’re strapped tightly to the four corners of the bed and trembling with anticipation. He’s left the room and it’s been a few minutes, you’re starting to wonder if this is some new lesson or test; your body temperature is elevated and with it your heart rate.

You hear him before you see him; he’s come back into the room with a video camera and is busy affixing it to a tripod. Pointing it at the bed he presses a button and you see the red light come on  the front of the machine; reaching into the bedside table again he comes back with a blindfold. Tying it onto you tightly your vision goes dark except for a few stars in your blanked vision.

Your breathing quickens and you gasp when something touches your pussy. It’s a vibrator and it’s harder and faster than the butterfly he’d made you wear out. You scream out as he parts you and presses it hard into your clit. The sensation is too much, too soon and when you think you might pass out he pulls it away again.

Off and on Teacher assaults your center with the vibrator, pulling you to the brink and then easing you away. As suddenly as the onslaught starts it ends; he rips the blindfold off of you and unties your arms and legs.  Climbing on top of you he whispers in your ear, “Are you ready for me?”

“Jesus Christ, YES,” you cry out and dig your fingernails into his ass. He roars and throws his head back and this is when you notice the row of mirrors on the ceiling above you. The sight of his toned ass and back as he’s poised to slam his cock into you is too much.

“You’re going to pay for that little girl,” he growls and you feel his cock head pushing into you, teasing you. “Maybe I shouldn’t give you what you want,” Teachers voice is ragged, rough and you know he wants this as badly as you do now but he’s completely willing to deny you both if need be.

“I’m sorry Teacher.”

His cock pushes in a little further and your breath hitches. You see him smile as he hesitates again. “Please…” you beg and the smile leaves his face.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks and before you can wonder what he means he plunges into you, stretching you beyond anything that’s ever been inside of you. You watch his ass as he pistons into you, the movement fast yet sensuous as his body rolls to complete the motion.

“Do you like that? Do you like watching me fuck you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, desperate to figure out where to put your hands. You want so badly to clutch his ass with them, to feel the muscles underneath the skin as they work. Teacher makes the decision for you when he raises up onto his knees and lifts your ass up to keep inside of you. The sensation is different this way, he’s going deeper and is able to thrust harder. You feel his cock hitting your g-spot and you’re dangerously close with every contact. He hasn’t given you permission yet...

His thumb finds your clit and rubs circles there, keeping time with his thrusts. His hand comes down hard on your cleft, the sound echoes across the bedroom along with your gasp. Again he strikes you and you cry out, tears flowing freely now. You’re dangerously close.

“You may come now Emmaline because it’s just the first of many.” He emphasizes with a thrust that pushes your head into the headboard and you’re lost to him for a moment. Your orgasm begins and as it crests he slaps your clit again, the effect heightens your release, prolonging it and making you cry harder. “You’ll never be able to walk out of this bedroom after I’m done with you. You won’t want to.”

His hips never slow during your release and you can’t even feel ashamed of the way your body spasms or worry about the faces you must be making. When your movements calm he pulls out and flips you over. You feel him position your ass in the air and slide back into you. He grabs your hair and yanks it roughly, forcing you up onto your hands. One hand has your hair in a tight grasp and the other is on your hip, pulling you back into his thrusts. A mirror hung on the wall next to the headboard gives you a view of his face and yours.

His is a study of concentration as he looks down at himself fucking you. Yours is one of pure lust as you watch him use you the way you’ve dreamed of. You come again without much warning and you see Teacher throw his head back as he feels your cunt constricting around him. He pulls harder on your hair and the pain of it can’t even compare to the feeling of him fucking you, using you, conquering you.

You don’t want it to end and it doesn’t for several hours more.


	8. Something that's never happened before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex marathon, maple syrup and LA

Teacher brings you a glass of water. You’re completely dehydrated; the sex marathon has gone on for six hours and you’ve finally broken and begged for a quick respite.

“I have to leave for a few days.”

You turn your head to look at him where he sits on the edge of the bed. You’re doing your best not to let the rising panic show but you’re sure that you’re not doing a very good job of it when his expression turns to concern.

“I’m coming back, there are just some loose ends I need to tie up in L.A., I have a house that’s finally sold and I need to be there to sign paperwork.”

His words do nothing to quell the sick feeling you have. What if he’s trying to sneak away quietly so that he doesn’t have your crying hysteria to deal with.

“You needn’t worry,” he says and your head snaps around to him again. You feel like he’s climbed inside your head and seen what you were thinking.

“I’m not worried,” you laugh and the sound is tinny and fake.

“Liar,” he says and smiles his crooked smile. “I promise I’ll be back in a week or less. I crooked pinky promise.” He extends his right hand and you try to glare at the imperfect pinky he waves in your face but you’re so giddy from the proper fucking he’s just given you that you can’t pretend. It feels strange to see this side of him. He’s never been anything but serious with you, business-like almost. He’s shown you a tender side a couple of times but never this playful side.

“Did you even come?” You ask Teacher, thinking about how you’d gotten off multiple times but you can’t recall that he had. He shakes his head no, sliding onto the bed beside you and stretching out. You curl up beside him and trace your finger along the tattoos that decorate his skin. “Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t about me, pet. It was about you and your reward. You’d more than earned it.”

As stupid as it seems you’re a little hurt that Teacher hadn’t orgasmed. Maybe there’s something about you that makes it harder for him to come. You blink back tears and feel childish and stupid for them making an appearance.

“What’s this, darling?” he asks as he lifts your face to look closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I just… it’s dumb, not even worth talking about.”

“The only time I want to see tears is when they’re part of sex, not sadness. Tell me,” his voice has turned commanding again and you’re compelled to answer.

“You didn’t come and I think maybe there is something about me that…,” You can’t finish your sentence but the light of conclusion in his face tell you that you don’t have to.

“No, no, no. It has nothing to do with anything of the sort. When I’m focused on giving someone else pleasure, my reward isn’t an orgasm for myself. I’m watching, collecting information, learning but pleasure isn’t always about coming or a conclusion if you will. Don’t get me wrong, coming inside you or on you will happen and I’m looking forward to it. But everything I do and the way I do it has a purpose. You’ll figure that out sooner rather than later.”

“Teacher?”

“Yes pet?”

“May I suck your cock? May I give you an orgasm? I know I’ve not earned another reward but I’m asking anyway.”

You watch his face for signs and you see his pupils dilate, turning his eyes shades darker. His smile is rapacious and makes you tremble. You lower your eyes to the sheets and wait.

‘Yes, you may.”

You think about diving in, headfirst, into his crotch and sucking for all it’s worth but you decide to play the slow game. Taking a page from Teacher’s playbook you lower your head to his right nipple and draw it into your mouth. He sighs and presses gently onto the back of your head and you bite, not too hard but hard enough to make him jerk. You look up into his face and his mouth is shaped into a pillowy O, his eyes heavy with desire. He nods slightly and you run your tongue all around his nipple in circles and swirls until its standing, hardened.

You trail your tongue down to his belly button and dip it into the strange little indentation. It’s not truly an innie _or_ an outie, instead it’s a sort of combination of the two. You plunge your tongue in and out of it like he did your cunt and you feel his abs tighten. You bite the taut skin around his stomach, making him jump and jerk on the bed, you feel his cock thump into your breasts every time he tenses up and it makes you want to giggle but you refrain.

You’re relieved to see that Teacher is well manscaped below but not completely bare. Your fingers find their way to his sparse thatch and pull lightly on the hair. You chastely kiss the head of his cock with a closed mouth before turning your attention to his balls. You lick them both and then blow a cool breath onto the wetness, watching the sensitive skin there tighten up. You smile as you look up at him and his dazed expression. It’s the same feeling of control only this time its amplified by the fact that this is Teacher who’s under your spell and not some random trust fund jerk.

You take one ball into your mouth and suck gently. You know to always tread lightly where the boys are concerned; they can’t take as much as a cock can but shouldn’t be ignored completely either. Teacher moans as your tongue works it’s magic and you alternate between the two.

Your hand massages the space between his ass and his balls; you relish the feel of his hardness as it extends further back into his body. Your tongue follows suit and traces the same path that your hand did prior. You gently nip at the skin and then lick, repeating the cycle many times.

Licking a trail from his perineum, up between his balls, along the bottom of his shaft and to the head of his cock, you stop, holding your mouth over the head and breathing hotly onto it. You look up at Teacher questioningly and he nods. You slide your lips onto the head and down the shaft, your tongue working the underside as you struggle to take him all in. It’s not easy but you manage to. Without a real gag reflex it’s always been a talent of yours to be able to swallow a cock whole but Teacher’s isn’t an ordinary one. Much wider than anything you’ve had before, he stretches your mouth and jaws to the limit but you relish the challenge as much as the taste of him.

Sliding him slowly out of your mouth you use your hand to work him and you can feel his legs tense and relax on the bed around you. Your center absolutely throbs with aching want as you use your mouth to bring your teacher pleasure. You feel him moving and you look up to see that he’s propped himself up on pillows to better watch what you’re doing. Pushing the performance anxiety to the back of your mind you close your eyes and work him completely into your mouth again.

“That feels fucking amazing.” To hear him praise what you’re doing increases your arousal and you can feel moisture drip out of you, down your clit and onto the sheets. You want to move your hand there and give yourself some relief but this isn’t about you, this is all about giving something back to Teacher. You dip lower again and use your tongue on his balls, drawing them into your mouth again one at a time, feeling them draw closer to his body and seeing the skin of his sack grow tauter.

“Teacher, may I have permission to make you come? To taste you?” You’re panting now, wild eyed and ready to feel him release in your mouth, to taste him on your tongue, to watch his face as he lets go.

                Teacher nods, his breath comes in short bursts, his nostrils are flared and his eyes the darkest shade you’ve ever seen them. He’s watching every move you make as you take him back into your mouth. You swallow him whole again and work your tongue at the same time you contract your throat. It’s the kill shot that has always worked to bring a guy to a breathless conclusion; you’re fucking psyched when you realize that Teacher is no exception.

His orgasm is breathtaking to say the least. His abs contract, his legs bend and straighten and his eyes are clenched so tightly you think he’s in pain. His hips thrust and it’s all you can do to hold onto him; you’re determined to catch and swallow every drop, you’ve earned it.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” He bellows, drawing the word out and making it sound more sensual than you’ve ever heard. The first of his come hits your tongue and you eagerly swallow, greedy for more of the salty sweetness of it. Every contraction sends more and you relish it. Too soon it’s over and you’re both gasping. You lay your head on his thigh and look up at his face. In his repose he looks innocent, miles away from the Teacher who spanks your clit and bites your breasts.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he says and smiles, cracking an eye and peering down at you.

“I can’t get those horrid fuck faces out of my mind,” you jest and scramble off the bed as he sits up and reaches for you. To be perfectly honest, you’re completely exhausted. It’s nearly four in the morning and you’re still worn out from your drugged drink and on top of that over seven hours of sex.

“When are you leaving?” You ask as Teacher pulls you back onto the bed and curls his body around yours.

“My plane flies out at 1 tomorrow afternoon.”

“So I can make you breakfast in a few hours before you leave?”

“You cook?” Teacher asks, his expression incredulous.

“I’ll have you know I am completely insulted! Yes, I can cook. I had the best instructors at my private school. I excel at breakfast foods though. Have you ever had Crêpe Suzette? It’s my specialty. Although I doubt you have everything I need for them. So you’ll have to make due with pancakes I suppose.”

“I could just eat you for breakfast.”

“Aren’t you sick of eating me yet?” You watch as his eyes darken again and he smiles.

“I don’t see me ever getting sick of the taste of you.”

Changing the subject because you don’t know how to react to his admission, you ask, “What will you do for work now that you’ve been fired? I happen to know this place isn’t cheap.”

He laughs, he’s knows you’re digging and you’re not even sorry. “Pet, I don’t work because I need the money. You’re not the only person who was born into a life of privilege. My parents were very well to do and I get a wonderful check every month from their estate. I could have the whole of it now but I don’t ask for it. They both died in a plane crash about fifteen years ago. After that my only family was FDR’s family who very graciously, unofficially adopted me.”

“I wasn’t born into wealth,” you say and are immediately sorry you brought it up. It’s the big, bad secret and almost everyone who knew about it is dead now. You’re almost clear of your past and here you are about to bring it up again. But Teacher has shared so much with you and it might be a stumbling block between you if he finds out on his own. “I was adopted at the age of six by the people I call my parents. My real parents were druggies who lived in Soho.  Oliver and Celeste Sloane basically saved me from them. My birth mother sold me to them, truth be told. When they took me I was about half the weight I should have been and spoke one word. The only word I knew was no. I knew that word because it’s what I would scream when they came at me, angry, fists balled. I was wormy, literally full of parasites, filthy, covered in lice and shit. At the hospital I tested positive for coke, meth and weed. I don’t remember much other than that about my life before I was adopted. I remember flashes, faces, I remember that my birth mother had a pierced nose and black hair like mine. The rest I only know because Celeste reminds me every now and then what a saint she was and is to put up with me.”

“Darling,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. You pull away from him, uncomfortable with the tender gesture.

“I don’t want pity. I’m telling you because I want to be open and honest with you and I’m sure you would have found this out on your own.”

“I don’t pity you or anyone,” he says, pulling you back into his embrace, “the pasts we all bear witness to are part of who we are. We can’t regret the past, if we do we’re calling ourselves, our existence a mistake. I don’t believe in mistakes, everything happens for a reason. Pity is a useless, wasted emotion.”

His words ring softly in your ear as you drift off to sleep surrounded by the wall of his arms and legs encircling you. You think briefly before the darkness overcomes you that you hadn’t needed the Versed to get to this point tonight. One last thought runs through your mind before plunging into sleep, _“If I were capable of wanting or giving love, it would be Teacher…”_

****

You hear him bustling about the bedroom, packing his suitcase and every now and then he pauses. You know he’s looking at you, trying not to wake you with his noise. You’re half tempted to feign sleep until he leaves for the airport. The end of the night was uncomfortable for you, too much like a normal relationship; the kind of relationship you swore you’d never fall back into.

It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. You’re just not capable of giving or receiving love anymore. Since your Father passed away that part of you has withered and died. He’s the only one who ever really loved you, showed you care and consideration. Your mother tolerated you because Father adored you; you were always more like breathing luggage than a daughter to Celeste Sloane. She only sees you now to keep up appearances; the opinions of the tennis and tea ladies means more to her than being a real mother to you ever did. In her most vicious moments she never fails to remind you what trashy stock you came from and it pisses her off to no end that she can’t cut you out of the money you receive. Your father wasn’t a dummy and he knew that he would have to carefully write his own iron-clad will to make sure you were provided for.

When he’d died you hadn’t been mad that he’d been with a mistress when it happened; who could blame him? Your mother was as cuddly as an alligator without an asshole. No, the only thing that bothered you, that destroyed you, was that when he died you were left completely alone without a soul in the world whom you were important to. You decided the day that your father was put into the ground that you would never open your heart to that kind of hurt again.

But the different kind of hurt that Teacher provides you is what you seek and crave relentlessly. Your relationship with him doesn’t need to change, it’s perfect the way it is. You open one eye and see him methodically folding a pair of dress slacks into a small black case.

“Good morning,” you whisper, wondering if he’ll hear you.

“Good morning pet. Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.”

You stretch and sit up in the bed; you see Teacher watch as your breasts sway with the motion of standing up. You’re not shamed in the least to be nude in front of him. “I’m going to use your shower if it’s ok, then I’ll make you breakfast if that’s what you wish.”

“Sounds lovely.”

In the shower you soap up, gingerly in some places, the consequences of the nights events have you sore in many places. You see a dark marking on your inner thigh and realize that Teacher has marked you in the same place on your thigh as he did the first night he took you. You smile, pleased at the sight and thought behind it. He’s making sure you’ll remember him while he’s gone and it makes you feel better to know he really plans on coming back.

“Do you have anything that might fit me? I don’t want to cook breakfast in my Zac Posen dress…,” you call out to the next room and he answers that he’ll bring something in for you. Luxuriating in the hot water you think back to all the events of the night before. There was no part of your body that the man hadn’t conquered and owned last night. He’d driven you like a high end sports car and made your engine purr like it never had before. What the fuck were you going to do without that sort of activity while he was gone to LA?

You don’t hear him come into the bathroom but there are clothes lying on the sink countertop when you open the glass shower door. A blue t-shirt with a yellow 7 on it and some dark blue sweat pants wait for you. Pulling the tee over your breasts you think it’s the softest shirt you’ve ever worn. Pulling it back off you see the tag says blag and make a mental note to look it up and order some of your own.

                Heading out of the bedroom and into the kitchen you see Teacher out on his balcony, talking on his cell. He waves at you and you smile. Searching the cabinets you find everything you need to make breakfast for him. Pancakes and over-well eggs should impress him greatly. Digging further into the cabinets you find real maple syrup and silently think more of him for not buying that cheap, high fructose corn shit.

You hear the door open as he steps inside, still talking to someone. “My flight is scheduled to land at 3:15 your time. I’ll text you the particulars so please FDR, don’t fuck me  by being late. You know that shit does my head in. No actually I’m not alone, I have a beautiful raven haired vixen making me breakfast right now… Fuck you I _am not_ lying.”

You motion for Teacher to take a picture and he nods. “Hold on you slimy bastard and I’ll send you proof.”

 You tie the shirt into a knot  to expose your stomach and look around for a pen. Finding one next to a pad of paper, you slowly write _Tucks Kitchen Bitch_ and then todays date on your belly then pose seductively on the counter top with your legs spread and your breasts jutted. You lick the spatula seductively and put on your naughtiest expression as Teacher takes multiple pictures.

He walks closer and pulls you off the counter. Leaning down closer to your ear he growls and the sound travels straight to your pussy, echoing there and causing you to drench the crotch of the sweats.

Plating the eggs and pancakes you set the two dishes on his dinette and walk back for the syrup, butter and silverware. He’s at the table saying his goodbyes to FDR when you come back. He pushes a few things and you figure he must be sending the pictures.

You arrange his silverware neatly next to his plate and sit, waiting for him to dig in. He doesn’t disappoint you and you remember the night at Sidetracks, watching him ravish the Sherry chicken. Eating with him, seeing the way he relishes each bite is an exercise in sensuality. His eyes flutter as he takes his first bite of the maple syrup covered pancake. His lets out a low mmmmm sound and you smile shyly. He follows it with a bite of egg and moans again.

“This is amazing. It’s been years since I’ve eaten breakfast… I guess I forgot what I was missing.”

You finally take your first bite and have to agree that you’ve outdone yourself. You were pleased to find the one thing you always include in your pancakes that most people don’t in his cupboard.

“It’s the vanilla that makes the difference in my opinion.” You offer and he smiles at you. There’s something in his smile that makes you nervous. You hurriedly finish your breakfast and leave the table to clean up the kitchen. You don’t hear him come up behind you so you scream when his hands close around your waist. He spins you around and pulls the sweats down and off with one swift motion. He sits you up on the counter in the middle off spilled flour and dirty bowls. Grabbing your legs he pulls them apart and buries his face in your cunt. You throw your head back, gasping, finding it hard to breathe when his tongue starts its dance with and around your clit. From beside you he grabs the bottle of maple syrup and pours a few drops onto your quivering cleft. He takes his time licking it off, he sucks your nub in and you convulse when he flicks his tongue against it inside the wet warmth of his mouth. His fingers find their way to your hole and he inserts two, angling them upwards until he find your secret spot. His sucking and licking intensifies and so does the finger fucking. His digits curl and he’s stimulating your g-spot, sucking intensely on your clit and you feel something you’ve never felt before. Wetness shoots out of you as your orgasm, it’s the most intense feeling you’ve ever had and you shake, convulse and cry out with every contraction. What the hell just happened?

Teacher smiles up at you, his eyes wide and pride coloring his face.

“I’ll bet you didn’t know you could do that.”

“I still don’t know what the hell that was,” you whisper shakily.

Teacher merely shakes his head and promises to send you to some websites to learn more about it. “That was amazing, pet,” he whispers, looking at your uncertain face, “That’s nothing to be embarrassed of. I can’t wait to make that happen again.”

Laughing, he goes to look for another pair of sweatpants for you since you’d literally drenched the ones that had been shed on the floor beneath you. Coming back and handing them to you he says, “By far that was the best breakfast I have ever had.”


	9. Some plot for your porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's Ms. Cunt to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as the chapter title suggests, I have to add a little plot to the porn. But there is still some naughtiness contained here in and a build up to a whopper of a chapter for 10

“Lock up and be safe.” Those were Teacher’s parting words to you. He’d refused your offer to accompany him to the airport and for that you were relieved. You were surprised when he offered to let you stay in his apartment unsupervised. It’s not like you plan on snooping through all his things anyway, although by the surface appearance of things he’s a minimalist.

Too worn out to even think about making your way home just yet, you decide to sprawl out on the bed and take a short nap. His bed is much more comfortable than yours anyway. Crawling onto the bed you slip the sweats off and slide your legs all over the silky sheets. You pull Teachers pillow onto your face and breathe in the smell of him deeply. You smile as you think about all the fucking the two of you had done on this bed mere hours ago. Your cunt twitches, already missing his immediate availability for a licking or pounding. But most of all you’re craving his riding crop and the sweet sting of it slapping your most sensitive places.

You realize now that there is no way you’re going to take a nap; you’re a million times too turned on to close your eyes any time soon. You stand to get dressed again and that’s when you see the tripod and video camera still set up in the corner. Tripping over your own feet you run to it and hurriedly check to see if the DVD-R is still inside and you squeal like an idiot when you see that it is.

Hands shaking, you make sure the disk is processed in the camera before running it to the living room and inserting it into the DVD player.  Dashing to the couch you look for the remotes needed to turn on the huge flat screen. Figuring it out is taking too long, patience has never been a strong point for you but eventually you figure it out and by the time you do you see yourself tied to the bed and blindfolded. He’s drilling your clit with a massive body massager, the smile on his face is reflected in the mirror next to the headboard. It’s almost childlike and it makes your heart skip which in turn freaks you out. He told you in the beginning not to catch feelings and you never imagined in a million years that you’d go beyond lust with him. _“You don’t want love, you don’t want love,”_ you chant to yourself in your mind and do your best to focus on the scene playing out before you.

“Are you ready for me?” Teacher growls from the television and you’re jealous of yourself, the version of you on the big screen, the one who’s about to get pounded into oblivion by the hottest cock in the universe. You watch fascinated as his ass works overtime and has your tv-self howling and crying. You’re on the edge of the couch, hand inching towards your cunt, and then you hear Teacher say, “You may come now Emmaline because it’s just the first of many.”

You spasm and fall back onto the couch, the orgasm shocking the hell out of you. He’s got you so primed for his permission that even hearing it on a video cause you to come. The aftershocks keep rolling through you and you realize that you’ve drenched his sofa and rug. You can’t sit up, even enough to watch what you can tell by the sounds is you giving Teacher a blow job. The sounds of his delight echo through the apartment and you reach the remote to turn the sound up. You lay there, listening to the deep grumbling growl, the rich, ragged tone of his voice and you picture his face above you. What would just straight vanilla sex be like with him? Shaking your head and wondering where the FUCK that stupid thought came from, you roll onto the floor and extricate yourself from the wet spot and push to standing with the help of the coffee table. You hear the annoying sounds of Bon Iver coming from somewhere deep inside your handbag and you rush to grab it.

“Hello?”

“Pet. I’m getting ready to board. Wondering how you’re getting on, or getting off whatever the case may be.” You look around, stunned, trying to figure out how he knew then realizing it might have just been a lucky guess although something tells you it’s not.

“Do you have this place bugged or something?”

“Actually yes, I do. While I have been out of the agency for a while, there still may be good cause for keeping my place under strict surveillance. I made more enemies than friends.” His voice lowers and sends chills down your spine when he speaks again, “And I have to tell you, I’m quite impressed with what I just saw. And don’t worry about the couch or rug, I have people who come once a week and clean. By the way, you might want to get some britches on, they’re due anytime.

“You dirty bas…”

“Ah, ah, ah poppet. I have something I need to talk to you about. Head into the master bedroom, top right bureau drawer. You’ll find another set of sweats and some socks to wear home and also a key I left for you so you can lock all the door locks. See them?” You don’t even answer out loud because you know somehow he can see you so you nod instead. “Good. Now, to business. I want you to come and join me in L.A.. I’ve booked a flight for you leaving very early Wednesday morning. The clubs here in LA have a very different atmosphere than the ones in New York. I think we could further your lessons here.”

He’s not asking, if he was you could probably think of a million reasons why you could say no. But he’s returned to the role of instructor, Master and you can’t turn him down.

“Okay,” you say, nodding your head as well.

“The cleaners are in the elevator on their way up. You might want to slide those pants on and get that DVD turned off before they see you with your mouth full.”

“D’Oh!” You yell and slide through the apartment on socked feet. You rip the DVD out of the player and turn the TV off as you hear a key in the lock. You hear a cell phone ring and suddenly you’re on a three way call. Teacher speaks.

“Miss Elliott? I wanted to let you know that there is a friend in my apartment right now so that you wouldn’t be surprised. She’ll probably be heading out soon.”

“Very well Mr. Hansen.” A voice answers and then it’s just you and Teacher on the line again.

“Emmaline, I will see you Wednesday. Bring lots of red to wear. I’ll text you the particulars.”

Teacher hangs up without another word and you mentally slap yourself, remembering that he’ll see the shock on your face. You brace yourself and greet the older woman who smiles at you as she comes in the door.

“Hey, I’m Emmaline,” you say as you offer your hand. She shakes it heartily and greets you with her name, which happens to be Sarah. “I’m sorry, I spilled… something on the couch and got it on the floor as well,” you stammer. You can almost hear Teacher laughing his ass off at your lie and you’re relieved to see Sarah pull on some elbow length gloves. You stash the DVD in your purse and make quick work of heading out and home. You have some things that need to be taken care of before Wednesday rolls around. Two days is cutting it close.

Hopping into a cab, your feet clad only in socks because the Choos wouldn’t match the sweat suit, you dial Dominick Cobb, your family’s private investigator.

“Dom,” you say and suppress a giggle at the double meaning it never had for you before, “I need some information ASAP. Look up an incident yesterday where an NYPD officer beat up a kid by the name of Jerrod something. Happened outside a restaurant called Sidetracks in Sunnyside. I need all the info you can give me on this kid Jerrod. I don’t think that’s his real name but it’s a place for you to start. If you can get it to me before tomorrow afternoon I’ll pay you double. If you can get it to me by tonight I’ll pay triple. Keep this off Mother’s radar at all costs.”

You hang up without waiting for a response because that’s what money like yours affords you; the right to be an uppity bitch. You don’t employ that tactic often but you’ve never been fond of Cobb, there are rumors about him, how he killed his ex-wife and got away with it  and that makes  you uncomfortable around him. You tolerate him because your Father trusted him.

The doorman gives you the hairy eyeball when you walk up to the front door. It takes a second for him to recognize you and he smiles, letting you in. You smile back and head up to your apartment. You’re tired beyond words and ready for a hot bath to soothe the case of achy thighs you’ve got going on.

The blinking message light on your answering machine means one thing, your mother has called multiple times. She doesn’t have your cell number so she always calls and leaves her special brand of torture for you in the form of messages on your landline. You hit play, determined to get this over with before your bath and the nap you have planned.

_“I just got off the phone with Marla Rockefeller, you know, Wendy’s mother of THE Rockefellers. She told me you made quite the scene and embarrassed her daughter in the middle of dinner at Pelham. If I taught you nothing else I taught you that our business is personal and to never cause a spectacle. Especially in the middle of the goddamned dinner service at your family’s country club! How dare you! You will call me and call me soon. You will be writing a formal apology to the Rockefellers and you WILL explain to me exactly what is going on with you.”_

The message ends with good Old Celeste slamming down the receiver to signify just how angry she really is. Yeah, mom’s pissed but she’s gonna get over it. You simply don’t care how mortified and angry she might be. You’re done taking shit from her, from Wendy Rockefeller or any other socialite cunt.

You turn on the bath and grab the DVD from your bag. Carrying your laptop into the bathroom you perch it on the edge of the vanity so that you can watch the rest of it while you soak. Minutes later you’re in the hot, soothing water and watching yourself suck Teacher’s cock all the way down your throat. You’d purposefully skipped hearing him give permission again, wanting to deny yourself release until you get to LA. It will be better for you both if you have a shit ton of pent up sexual tension.

There is hours of sex on the DVD, more than you could watch before your bath gets cold so you fast forward through most of it, saving it for another time. What you really want to see is what happened after you went to sleep. You’re not even sure that the DVD-R would have lasted that long. But as you see the epic fuck a thon wind to a close you realize that what you seek is indeed going to be on there.

Leaning back into the bath you watch yourself sleep without the benefit of Versed. Although you’re sure whatever Jerrod had slipped into your martini had a hand in it, this would be the first time you slept through the night without the prescription in years. It was also the first night in years where you hadn’t had THE dream.

You’re surprised to see that you don’t even move a muscle for the most part. Teacher’s body is wrapped around you and the sight of him entwined with you in sleep is strange for you. You stand up out of the water and dry off, listening to the sounds of your breathing coming from the laptop as it syncs with his. Pulling on your clean clothes you turn to the laptop and just before you eject the disk you hear yourself talk in your sleep.

“Teacher… Tuck… I love you…”

What. The. Fuck.

 

You don’t have much time to think it over because you hear your cell ringing in the other room. Grabbing it from your bag you answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“It’s Cobb. I have your info you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to dig up the dirt on this guy and there is some dirt indeed. And you were right, his real name isn’t Jerrod Ayres, it’s Kevin Calvert. He’s from Winter Haven, Florida. He has sealed juvie record, but going back through newspaper articles I found that he was sent up for animal cruelty several times. Also, and I can’t confirm this is why, but from talking to a few people I know in Florida he was taken out of his home and placed in foster care because he had abusive parents.” Cobb pauses waiting for you to say something. He knows your history and is probably wondering how this turn of events is settling into your mind.

“Go on,” you say, not using any emotion in your words.

“As an adult, after being released, he moved to Shreveport, Louisiana, had some run-ins with the law there for shoplifting, selling drugs and was charged with felony assault before he disappeared. He’s still wanted on those charges there.”

“And you’re sure this is the same guy? I have to be certain before I proceed.”

“I have photo documentation that I got faxed to me from Louisiana. I have a courier on the way to you with all of this. And remember the deal, triple my fee since I got this to you today.”

“As if I would forget.” You’re about to hang up but something stops you and you speak again. “Dom?”

“Yes Emmaline?”

“Did you do it?” He’ll know what you’re asking and you can’t believe that you actually did.

“Does it matter what I say? Your father never believed it was true but I can tell that you always have. A few words from me aren’t going to change your mind.” He laughs ruefully, “Anyway, I hope this is what you needed. You have my number, if you need me you know where to find me.”

This time he hangs up on you and you laugh a little. You’re thinking that a guilty man would have protested his innocence when given the chance but Cobb just laughed it off. Maybe you’ve been wrong about him all this time.

Changing into clothes to go out into the day in instead of comfy shit and brush your hair, your teeth and make a quick sandwich for a late lunch. You’re smiling on the inside, so ready to carry out your errand that when the doorman rings to let you know the courier is on his way up you jump out of your seat and meet him at the elevator instead of your door. Running back to the apartment you rip open the thick envelope and stare at the picture on top. There’s no doubt that this is the same guy, pouty mouth, petulant smile even though it’s a mug shot; what a smug bastard he is.

Looking through it all you realize the strings Cobb must have pulled to get this to you so quickly. You wonder if he’s having financial problems that are motivating him somehow. Noticing that he’s saved you a trip to Kinko’s but sending a duplicate copy of everything you decide a bonus on top of triple his normal fee is in order. You call your financial advisor and have the money wired straight to his account and then head out the door with a smirk on your face.

8888

 

Jerrod a.k.a Kevin is sleeping when you walk into his room. A Benjamin slipped discreetly into the charge nurses palm gave you information that he was lucid and stable. It also guaranteed that you wouldn’t be interrupted by him pressing the call light, but then again telling her that you’re the one he had drugged and was trying to drag out of the restaurant probably helped insure that too. A quick promise that you meant him no physical harm, that you only wanted to confront your attacker sealed the deal and off to his room you went.

Opening up the envelope, you want his own mug shot to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. You prop it up on his rolling table against his water pitcher and clear your throat. His peers around sleepily and you give him a haughty little wave when he spies you.

“Hey there Jerrod, or wait, is it Kevin? Kevin from Winter Haven who’s running from charges in Louisiana.”

His mouth opens in surprise and he seems about to say something but you cut him off.

“Don’t talk, just listen. I know about the still open investigation in Shreveport and the pending assault charges against you. If you want to continue being a free man you’re going to drop those charges against Officer Hansen and you’re never going to darken his life OR mine again. It’s not a question, it’s a demand. You’re going to tell them that you were roughing me up and that’s why he did what he did. If you don’t give me what I want by this evening I will have my people notify Louisiana where you are. Are we clear? You don’t need to say a word, just nod. And keep this in mind, if you were to go to prison, I’m pretty sure you and that lovely mouth of yours would be on the receiving end of some pain instead of doling it out.”

You turn to leave and he mutters a single word to your retreating form.

“Cunt.”

“Why thank you,” you call back to him as you leave.


	10. Plane rides, dinner rolls and The Standard

You’ve never enjoyed planes. Private jets, first class, coach, none of it has made a difference. It’s not that you’re afraid of flying or the height at which it occurs; it’s more the idea that you’re trapped on board with all these people you don’t know and the proximity of them irks you. Inevitably someone wants to talk to you, ask you what you’re travelling for. Nine times out of ten you get hit on by some smarmy, old fucker and needless to say you’re still not an initiate of the Mile High Club. You’ve learned to have your headphones and a sleep mask at the ready to stave off the unwanted conversations and uninvited sexual advances.

The flight goes smoothly; it’s incredibly under-booked and you think that the fact that it left the airport at 4 a.m. probably has a lot to do with that. Most New Yorkers are just getting into bed at that time. The people around you look like business folks who are dog tired and no more interested in getting to know you than you are them. You make a mental note to always book a pre-dawn flight from now on and shiver with anticipation as the plane lands in LA.

The two days prior that you’d expected to drag had gone quickly. Cobb had done some more work for you, finding out that Jerrod had indeed dropped all the charges. You’d had him call Louisiana after that to let them know where to find Jerrod. You didn’t do it to get revenge for yourself; you were square with Jerrod the minute he dropped all the charges against Teacher. No, you turned him in to Louisiana for Teacher, for what he suffered when he lost his Sub, for what the Sub suffered and to prevent Jerrod from doing that to anyone else.

You’d done a little shopping at a few specialty boutiques, gotten some things that might please Teacher and also looked up the websites he’s sent to you about female ejaculation, also known as squirting. It’s not that you were clueless about it, it’s just that you didn’t believe it was real. Although now you can attest to the fact that it is indeed a true phenomenon; you’d experienced it personally. Thinking about the look on Teachers face after it had happened and replaying his words, how he’d said that he couldn’t wait to make it happen again has kept you turned on since. You can’t wait either.

You haven’t allowed yourself to think much about the words uttered in your sleep. You can’t being love into this equation, no matter how you feel subconsciously. You’d been warned in the beginning; as a matter of fact that’s probably WHY you’re feeling it. You’ve always been tempted by forbidden fruit; it’s why you’d lost your virginity to your Father’s business partner at 16.

Disembarking takes far too long, you’re twitchy by the time you reach the terminal and plain edgy once you finally get your luggage. You fight the urge to run to Teacher when you see him standing, looking for  you outside the main entrance. He’s dressed in a dark business suit, more formal that you’ve ever seen him and the effect stuns you. You hide for a moment, taking in the sight of him as he searches the crowd for your face. His forehead is crinkled, his mouth puckered in concentration and he has one hand on his hip and the other in his pocket.

“There you are!” A voice makes you jump and you turn to tell the man speaking to you that he has the wrong person. You look up and then up some more into sky blue eyes; this shade of blue is utterly stunning and you can’t find the words to speak.

“Miss Sloane, I would recognize you anywhere, even without the uber attractive sweat pants and your tongue stuck to a spatula. I’m FDR.” He grasps your hand and kisses it then smiles cockily down at you. You smell Teachers cologne and get the familiar feeling of electricity and you know he’s come up behind you. You see his hand with the crooked pinky swing around with a twenty in it, passing it to blue eyes who winks at him.

“See? I told you I’d find her before you would.”

“Smug bastard,” Teacher growls and wraps his arm around you possessively. “Emmaline, this is my friend and former work partner, FDR.”

“Pleasure to meet you in person Emmaline. Let’s get going shall we? Lauren has brunch waiting and you know she’s not fond of tardy people.”

“Which is _exactly_ why I always have to wonder how the two of you are still together,” Teacher snarks and laughs. The sound is lusty and true, almost like a crow cawing and you can’t help but to smile. You had no idea that Teacher had been planning on introducing you to anyone and you’re a little nonplussed that he hadn’t given you a heads up, but decide to go just with the flow. You’re just THAT happy to see him and be near him.

You’re not surprised in the slightest that FDR drives a  penis car that reeks of expensive cologne. You’re also not surprised that this Lauren calls him twice on the way to their house. She seems high strung and a total control freak; in short, the kind of woman that you don’t want to hang around. FDR drives like a bat out of hell and you’re slung into Teacher more than once in the tiny back seat. The blurred images of Palm trees makes your head spin as they fly by outside the tiny windows. Your nerves are frayed by the time you reach the house and your legs wobble as you walk up to the door inside the garage.

Walking inside the kitchen you’re assaulted by a short blonde who looks as if she might be carved out of cream cheese.

“Quick question, which of these smells better to you?” She asks as she thrusts two cookies into your face, one at a time.

“Uhh, the uh, second one?” You answer, not so convincingly.

“That’s what I thought too so those are the ones we’re having for dessert.” And like that she’s gone and you’re relieved for the respite. You turn to look at Teacher as FDR brushes by you, calling after the woman. He shrugs and smiles.

FDR returns and calls the two of you to dinner. Apparently its pot roast night and you don’t feel like eating but don’t want to be rude to your hosts. Sitting next to Teacher and watching Lauren run around the table with more energy than any person should ever have, talking a mile a minute, has you dizzy. All you want is to be alone with your instructor but instead you’re here listening to this crazy blonde bitch rattle on about the difference between the old Teflon and the new formula.

You’re dazed, nodding numbly when appropriate and trying to stomach the mystery meat on the plate before you when you feel Teacher’s hand creeping up inside your skirt. You look at him and he’s staring you down. You open your legs and his fingers part you and pinch your clit. You hold in the gasp, your eyes water and  you look down at your plate. He pinches again and then pulls, bringing your hips forward with his hand. He pulls it away and in your peripheral you see him break off a piece of  his dinner roll and then his hand disappears under the table again. Seconds later  and then you feel him rubbing it up and down your cunt. You watch him bring it out from under the table and slide it slowly into his mouth. He moans and says “Lauren, this bread is exquisite, did you make it yourself?” She’s replying, talking a blue streak but you can’t focus on what she’s saying. All you know is that Teacher is determined to use you as human dipping sauce for his entire roll. He stares you down, seemingly daring you to make a sound or to alert your hosts to the perversity that’s going on under their table. Your arousal has been building since you boarded the plane. When the fuck is this dinner going to be over with so you can be alone with Teacher?

“Lauren asked you a question, darling.” You snap your head around as Tuck pops the last of his dinner roll into his mouth and moans appreciatively.

“I’m sorry, I’m jet-lagged I guess. I’ve had a busy couple of days,” you mutter, your voice husky with desire. You clear your throat and try again, “What was that Lauren?”

“I asked how you two met. If I’m not being too nosy…”

“He pulled me over for speeding,” you answer honestly and Teacher laughs.

“130 in a 65.” He adds and Lauren’s eyes sparkle.

“What in the world were you driving?” She asks and leans forward in her seat, her blue eyes open wide.

“Now you’ve done it,” FDR counters and stands to start clearing the table. “I should have warned you not to talk cars with my wife.”

Teacher slips a finger inside of you and slowly starts to move it in and out. You do your best to carry on the conversation.

“I was in my Lotus Elise.”

“Dear god baby JESUS, you own a Lotus Elise? That is one hell of a vehicle! Honey, why don’t I have a Lotus Elise?” She yells to her husband as she stands and grabs more dishes to carry to the kitchen.

“Because Lauren, we’d have an assload of speeding tickets, and you can’t drive for shit.” FDR calls from the kitchen.

You’re alone at the table with Teacher and he’s got a finger inside of you. You’re dripping wet all around that devilish digit and he leans in close to your ear to whisper seductively.

‘We’re skipping the cookies, you suddenly have a headache, pet. I have a limo waiting outside this minute.” He withdraws and you gape at him as he places his wet finger in his mouth and sucks your arousal off of it. “I’m going to fuck you inside that limo that’s waiting outside.”

Lauren comes back in with a plate of cookies and you grab your head and rub your temples for all it’s worth.

“Lauren, my darling I’m afraid Emmaline isn’t feeling well. We’re going to head out now. I’ve called for a ride to the hotel so you needn’t be put out with taking us. Thank you for a lovely dinner and we’ll speak before we fly back to New York.”

You’re up and ushered out the door as FDR calls his goodbyes and Lauren all but flings cookies at you. Tuck is passing your bags to the driver and you’re flooded with relief to be leaving the craziness that is called Lauren behind.

You have enough time to get into the limo and sit back before Teacher is on you, biting at your neck, squeezing your breasts and breathing heavily onto your skin. He presses down on you as he grapples with his belt and zipper. He pulls your skirt up and slaps your cleft hard, drawing a small scream from you, then he doesn’t hesitate at all before he shoves his cock into you roughly. You leverage yourself against his forceful fucking by pressing your hands into the seatback behind you as the limo pulls away and accelerates.

He pulls your blouse up and groans when he sees the nipple clamps you’ve been wearing since New York. It’d been a kinky little fiasco to get through TSA with them on but you’d passed eventually. He shoves into you harder and moans.

“You never fail to surprise me, pet. That’s not an easy thing to do. But I think I can do better than those.” He reaches one hand up and releases the right one, blood and feeling flow back into the nipple and you whimper when he replaces the clamp with his teeth. He alternates biting and then sucking. His cock is hammering you hard enough to sway the back of the limo  while you’re stopped at a traffic light.

“Please… please Teacher, please let me come on your cock… pleeeeaaaase…” you moan, near tears, begging for him to grant you permission to come. He releases the other nipple clamp and bites down on it quickly. His cock presses the right spot and you know it’s inevitable. One more thrust and you’re going to explode.

“NOW!” he hisses and you’re flying, floating and crying all at once. Your pussy grasps at him and you feel his thrusts quicken. He roars as his release comes; he’s coming inside of you for the first time, another milestone, another something earned.

“Fuck!” He bellows and slams into you one last time. He lies on top of you, shaking and breathing heavily and you smile at the feeling of his body’s little quakes.

“I would apologize for the quick and dirty but I’m not sorry in the slightest. That’s been building since I left New York. The nipple clamps were a nice touch though. Did you have them on the whole flight?” He pulls out of you and sighs loudly. Leaning back into his seat he struggles to fit his wet cock back into his trousers before his erection has completely gone. You fight the urge to lean over and take him into your mouth just to taste yourself mixed with him.

“Yes, even before. It was a nightmare to get through security with them on.” You laugh as he finally contains himself once again and you start to set your own clothes right. “I need to tell you something though. I want to get it out of the way before we go any further because I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it.

Immediately his expression becomes guarded and he turns in his seat, looking at you expectantly. You tell him the whole story about what you dug up on Jerrod and what unfolded afterwards. You tell him why you did the things that you did, not holding anything back. You want no secrets between the two of you. When you finish and he doesn’t reply immediately your heart sinks; you think you’ve displeased him. You lean back into your seat and close your eyes, willing the tears not to come.

“Emmaline, I’ve always been the protector. I’ve never expected anything from anyone and once again you’ve surprised me. What he did to Amanda is horrible, unspeakable. Why she never turned him in or pressed charges is a mystery to me. He deserves whatever happens to him in prison.” Teacher takes your hand and presses it to his chest while he strokes the side of your face.  His eyes are dark and his voice is soft when he speaks again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome teacher. It’s the least I could do after everything. You’ve saved me in more ways than one.”

It just slipped out without any forethought and thankfully he either didn’t hear it or is choosing to ignore it.

‘We’re staying at The Standard in downtown. It’s not the poshest of accommodations but it is closer to some places I would like to take you. Also, I was wondering how you feel about body modification?” He slides the last part in so smoothly you almost don’t recognize it as a question.

“Such as?”

“Well, piercings to be exact. I was thinking of having you get your nipple pierced. Inspired of course by these,” he says, holding up the nipple clamps and smiling impishly. “But it’s not something I am demanding at all as your instructor, let me make that clear. It just seemed like something you might be into.”

“I’m not at all adverse to the idea if it would please you.”

“Wonderful. I know just the place to take you. I was thinking of getting another tattoo and it can all be taken care of in the same place.”

The limo slows and you look to make sure you’re all sorted and in order before exiting. Teacher offers his hand to help you up and out. His smile is sly as he tips the driver and helps the valet with your bags. You can’t stop the blush you feel as you watch him. He senses you watching and turns to smile at you. It’s such an honest, uncomplicated smile and you realize it’s finally reached his eyes. You’re not looking at Teacher in that moment, you’re seeing Tuck Hansen for the first time and it’s devastating.


	11. Piercings, Frankie and Ball gags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White hot pain, Frankie the piercer and a huge hurry to get back to the Hotel

You’re nervous as you walk into Studio City Tattoo and Piercing Parlor with Teacher. You’ve never even had your ears pierced, not out of fear but just because your mother always told you it was such a common thing to do. With Celeste Sloane, common was the ultimate dirty word, so you never even considered it. You’d decided to stick with clip-ons for your diamonds instead.

The woman at the front desk, whom you assume is the receptionist, has purple and black hair, metal sticking out of too many piercings to count and is quite possibly one of the sexiest women you’ve ever laid eyes on. The air around her seems electrically charged and you get an almost drunken feeling from it. You know you’re staring but you can’t help it. She smiles at you, apparently used to the attention, and you watch as her eyes trail down to your cleavage.  And now there’s no doubt that she at least bats for both teams if not solely for the Innies.

Teacher speaks and you can tell by the chuckle in his voice that he’s enjoying the way the receptionist is enjoying you.

“My friend and I have appointments, mine is with Jake for a tattoo and hers is with Frankie for piercings.”

Appointments? When had he made appointments? Had he just known that you would say yes to being pierced?

“Well it’s my lucky night then. I’m Frankie,” says the woman who is not the receptionist. You know now that Teacher is waiting for you to be rattled. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. You grab Frankie’s extended hand and kiss it, eyeing her breasts the way she had yours.

“I’m Emmaline, call me Emmy.”

Teacher looks at you, eyebrow cocked and the expression on his face is priceless.

“Very well, Emmy. Why don’t both of you come back with me? Jake won’t be finished with his current tattoo for another hour or so. Emmy, you don’t mind if your friend watches do you?” Frankie is openly flirting with you now and you give as good as you’re getting; at the same time you feel like you might be getting in over your head with her AND Teacher. You turn and smile at him, replaying in your head the conversation about your brief experiences with women and how Teacher had grilled you about having eaten a pussy or having had yours eaten by a woman.

“No, I don’t mind if he watches at all. I’d actually prefer it.” You smile slyly but your insides don’t match the bravado you’re displaying. As hot as Frankie is, you don’t want to have sex with her. How far are you really willing to go to please Teacher? Would you really do this chick if you knew it would make him happy? You can’t really tell yourself definitively that you wouldn’t. What if he decides he wants to have sex with her in front of you? How would that feel? You’ve seen another chick give him head but that was before… Before what, you think to yourself. Before you started catching those feelings that he warned you against in the beginning. You’ve mentally boxed yourself into a corner and you’re furiously trying to think your way out of it.

“I think she’s ignoring me…” Frankie says and you shake your head, feeling mind numbingly stupid. You realize that now you’re in a small room with a table to lie on, a chair and a small surgical rolling tray with piercing supplies on it.

“I’m sorry, what was that again?” You ask nervously.

“What are we piercing tonight?”

“My nipples, I want both done.”

Frankie laughs, “Honey, in all my time here I’ve had a lot of requests for both nipples to be done and let me tell you, it’s only ever happened twice and neither time was for a woman. One and done, that’s how it ends up.”

“Maybe that’s only because I haven’t been here before?”

Teacher laughs, he’s enjoying the display. You want to knock that cocky smirk off of his face so you hop up onto the table and slip off your Robert Rodriguez silk tie top. The cold air in the piercing studio has your nipples standing erect instantly and you see that Teachers eyes notice immediately.

“Lie back and let’s have you raise both your arms above your head.” Frankie is hardcore staring at your breasts but now her gaze is less licentious and more businesslike. Teacher crosses the small room and stands above your head. His hands trail up the underside of your arms, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

“What gauge are we thinking and do you want hoops or bars?”

You look at Teacher, wanting him to make the decision for you. He smiles, approving of your wanting his input.

“Ten and we want rings.”

Frankie giggles and the sound irritates you. “Is something amusing?” Your tone is one of utter contempt.

“There’s no way you’re going to get the second one done with a ten gauge hoop.”

This bitch just made your mind up for you and she has no idea. You’ll get both done even if it kills you now.

“Let’s make a bet, shall we,” you say to Frankie’s back as she readies the needles and implements. “If I chicken out and don’t get both done I’ll eat your pussy. If I get both done you only charge me for one.”

“I’d say we have a fucking wager.” Frankie says, laughing and sticking out her hand to shake. You oblige and then lift your arms above your head again. . Frankie smirks at Teacher and then leaves the room to get the piercing jewelry. Looking up into Teachers face you see pride and something else, some emotion you can’t quite put a name to and as soon as you raise an eyebrow he wipes his expression clean. Leaning down he starts to whisper in your ear, his voice low, his tone deep and his words send a chill through your body.

“I bind your ankles with my rope so you cannot walk.”

Frankie walks back into the room and over to where you lay with a humongous needle in one hand and a cork in the other one.

“You ready?” She asks and you nod. Placing the needle and cork on opposite sides of your nipple you feel the slight, sharp bite of the metal and you will yourself not to jump.

“I bind your wrists so you cannot push me away. I place you on the bed and wrap my rope tighter around your skin so it grips your flesh.” Teacher’s breath is hot on your ear but his words are verbal magma, connecting your sense of hearing directly to your cunt. Each syllable causes your clit to throb in cadence with his spoken words.

Frankie counts to three and then pushes the needle through your nipple. The pain is searing white hot and like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You want to hold your breath but you know better so you inhale through your nose and out through your mouth. You feel pressure as she pulls the needle through followed by the ring. Light tugging and then the ball is snapped in place, one down.

Teacher smiles down at you, kisses your forehead and then leans into your other ear.

“Are we a go for the other one?” Frankie sounds hopeful that you’ll say no but you give her a breathy yes instead.

“Well, goddamn,” she mutters and turns to the tray to retrieve the other needle and ring.

“Now you know that struggle is useless, that you must lie here and submit to my mouth and tongue and teeth, my hands and words and whims,” Teacher is speaking to the hungry Submissive inside of you, the one he gave life to and the one he’s nurturing. You can’t take your eyes off of Frankie’s hands as they position the second needle. You want to see this as well as feel it. She begins her countdown and Teacher licks your ear before saying, “You exist only as my object. Exposed. You have my permission.”

The needle slides through and the pain mingles with Teachers voice in your head, making the two into one and you’re gone beyond all words and reason. This isn’t the screaming, sobbing orgasm of the sort you’ve had with him before. This one is private even though you’re not alone. The spasms are internal, the sounds are inside your head and the pleasure is yours alone. Another lesson learned, another milestone passed. And you’re turned on and up a thousand percent, more erotically charged , more aroused than you ever have been in your entire life.

Teacher is speaking to Frankie in a low voice, you see him pass her money and then she looks around his imposing form and winks at you.

“I can’t say I’m not impressed with you Emmy. I also can’t say that I wasn’t hoping you’d lose that bet. She turns and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her. Teacher takes the lone chair and wedges it up and under the handle. He turns to you, his eyes the dark shade they always turn when he’s about to turn loose on you.

“What was that? What you said to me while she was poking holes in me?”

“Well I took some liberties with it but basically it’s from a book called Extreme Deviance. The part I quoted was from a chapter called the Pleasure of Pain by Marianne Apostolides. It’s one I’ve read over and over.”

“It was beautiful,” you whisper as you slide your skirt off and stand before Teacher completely naked except for your ridiculously high heels.

Teacher leans his head in to your breast and takes one ring into his mouth, pulling on it slightly. Pain shoots from your nipple to all parts of your breast, making you gasp. He takes the other in his mouth and does the same. He spins you around and bends you over the table; you hear his zipper and then the sound of his pants hitting the floor. His hand comes down hard on your ass and you squirm, half out of anticipation and half out of the pain of it. Your nipples push roughly against the cold faux leather upholstery of the table. The ache coming from them along with the sting from your spanked ass makes you want to cry.

Teacher grabs your hair and pulls your head back roughly as he slides his cock into you equally as hard.

 “I want to fucking devour you…” he pants as he pounds into you,

One hand comes down hard on your ass as he pulls and pushes. Your head is spinning, it’s almost too much to take. Suddenly he withdraws from you and turns you to face him.

“No more here. I need to get you back to the room. This just won’t do…” His thoughts seem scattered and his eyes are glazed over. He looks feverish, frantic and it scares you a little.

He pulls up his pants and helps you dress hurriedly. His breathing is quick and his arousal evident. He doesn’t seem to care that he still has a tattoo appointment. He pulls you out of the room, and you both hurry out of the building and into a cab. He doesn’t look at you and you start to wonder if you’ve displeased him somehow. Your mind races and you want to ask but you refrain.

The walk through the lobby is at an even faster pace and you stumble. Teacher leans down and takes the shoes right off of your feet, dragging you to the elevator. You’re a little mortified at the stares the two of you get but he doesn’t make apologies. He taps his foot hurriedly as the elevator apparently takes too long to reach your floor. Once the doors open he flings you effortlessly over his shoulder and runs down the hallway, fumbling in his jacket pocket for the key card. He has the door opened, both of you inside and then has you pressed up against the wall before you have time to blink.

His tongue fucks your mouth, his hands squeeze your ass and he has his cock pressed into your leg. His hands roam your body, pinching, slapping, pulling and every sensation adds to the arousal that’s starting to run down the inside of your thighs.

“Get on your knees,” he commands and you drop without hesitation.

He undoes his fly and pulls his cock out while yanking your head back. “Open your fucking mouth,” he growls. You stare up at him and take him, expecting the feel and taste of him but not the ferocity of his actions. He slams his cock into the back of your throat making you gag and retch. Your eyes water and he does it again.

Just as suddenly he pulls away and walks to the bed, leaving you on your knees and confused. He sits heavily and puts his head into his hands. You crawl towards him, never getting up off of your knees. Your nipples throb with the swaying of your breasts.

You sit lightly on your ankles in front of him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“I’m going to end up hurting you and I mean in an unacceptable way. Boundaries exist for a reason but I’m finding the lines become blurred where you’re concerned. I’ve never been so hungry to punish, to draw tears from a sub as I am with you.”

You say nothing, choosing instead to wait for him to unburden whatever is troubling him.

“Seeing your pain is like a drug for me, the more I see the more I want. I’m afraid I’m going to push too hard, go too far. I’m scared you might run away or even worse that you won’t when you should.”

“Then push me farther, be harder on me. I’ve not even scratched the surface of what I need yet. Just don’t…” you want to say more but stop yourself.

“Just don’t what?” Teacher looks at you, his eyes wide.

“Just don’t shut me out or make me wonder what’s going on. I can take anything you’re thinking but what I can’t handle is what my mind makes up in absence of your truth. We can figure out limits together, I’m not afraid.”

Teacher smiles at you and places a hand on the side of your face. The gesture is tender and your heart skips as his warm hand lingers on your cheek.

“We can figure this out as we go along, can’t we?” You ask, your tone pleading with him not to give up or back away.

Teacher nods then stands and walks over to the small closet and pulls out a bag. Placing the bag on the bed, he reaches in and pulls out a ball gag. You immediately feel intimidated but you’re determined not to shy away from anything he throws at you. He pulls your chin down and places the huge ball in it, then straps the device around your head. Next he pulls two lengths of rope out of the bag and makes short work of securing your wrists to your ankles. He picks you up and places you on the bed on your back. You turn your head to watch him as he undresses. His tattoos are beautiful even though they are a mish-mash that doesn’t make much sense. You know that there is a story behind each and every one of them and you hope to learn them all one day.

He grabs the riding crop and you feel yourself shiver with anticipation. You love the crop, you crave the sting of it. You watch as he takes the leather flap at the end of it and places it in his mouth.

“I can still taste you on here,” he smirks and the look on his face is pure, unadulterated lust. “Sweet, salty…” he mutter then with lightning swiftness he brings the crop down on your inner thigh. Your muscle spasms under the skin, twitching and sending a ripple to the surrounding skin. Your teeth clench around the ball-gag and you close your eyes. This displeases Teacher because he brings the crop down rapidly on the other thigh twice.

“Don’t close your eyes again. Watch me…”

Teacher crawls onto the bed with you, sliding beside you so closely that you feel the soft scratch of his body hair as he moves against you.

His face is close in next to yours and all you can see is him; he blocks out the rest of the room with his nearness. One arm is underneath your neck and extended down your chest with the riding crop poised above your cunt.

You feel the fingers of his other hand sliding lazily around your entrance and your pussy contracts from the sensation. One digit slides in and Teacher moans in your ear.

“Do you know how much it fucking turns me on that you’re always so wet, so ready for me?” he inserts another finger and then a third. As he moves them in and out of your wet heat, his head descends to your nipple and he licks and pulls on the new piercings. You mewl at the sensation, your hands aching to grab his head, to press his mouth into you and make his tongue work harder. You’re bound tightly, meant to be his object to be used as he sees fit. Your pleasure tonight will come directly from his own.

The riding crop exacts another gasp from behind your gag as it makes contact with your clit as his fingers pump into you slowly. A tear slides from your eye and Teacher’s tongue laps it up. He strikes again and again, relishing the cries and salty rewards that slide down your cheek.

Teacher lifts you up and slides his body underneath you. Using his arms only he brings you down onto his torso and positions his erection at your entrance. Your mind clears and for a brief moment you remember the words he spoke to you in the tattoo parlor.

_“You exist only as my object. Exposed…”_

His cock presses in to you and you feel the sweet burn as he stretches you, rubbing inside of you in places differently than ever before because of the way you’re bound and the position you’re in. You can feel him reaching to the side and into the bag again and he pulls out what you think is a vibrator then laying it on the bed beside you. He rocks you back slightly, and then his hips thrust upwards. You cry out and the muffled sound is equal parts agony and ecstasy. He plunges again, this time harder than before. You can feel his abs tense before he pushes into you and you find yourself clenching your cunt, preparing for the onslaught of each thrust of his hips. He makes an agonized sound and rolls you off of him, onto the bed on your side.

“You keep doing that and the night will end much sooner than I want it to, pet.”

He gets up on his knees and rolls you on to your back, his right hand pushes your bound limbs up towards the headboard and he grabs the vibrator with the other one.

“Let’s try some sensory overload, shall we? And you will not come until I tell you to. As a matter of fact, let’s take off the gag because I’m going to make you beg for it.”

Teacher quickly undoes the buckle and you swallow quickly as the gag is removed. Your jaw feels stretched, almost locked open and you force your mouth closed. Once again your cunt is slammed full of Teachers cock but this time he parts you and presses the vibrator down hard on your clit. Immediately the sensation is too much. You cry out and try to move away but you’re impaled and not going anywhere.

You’ve experienced this before, during your own exploration with vibrators. You’d pressed it hard into your erect nub and then pulled away when the feeling became too intense. You’d felt something building but the effect was too great and you hadn’t been strong enough to follow through. Teacher isn’t wavering, isn’t backing off and you cry out again.

“Please!” You scream and squirm as he thrusts into you and presses the vibrator into your cleft.

“Please what?”

“It’s… oh fuck, it’s too much!”

Your words only make him press down even harder and fuck you even faster. His face is red and sweat is pouring off of him and raining down on you every time his hips jut forward.

You scream again, the vibrations on your clit are almost painful and you can feel something coming. You can’t tell fir sure if it’s going to be something good or something terrible.

“Do you want to come? Beg me, fucking beg me now, beg for it.”

“Please! Can I come please?”

The vibrator lets up and then presses down hard again. Your scream this time is louder and Teacher smiles down at you.

“That wasn’t convincing at all, _beg me_.”

You start to cry, you don’t know what he’s after but something huge is happening, something that scares you. You look up at him, your breath coming in gasps, tears flowing freely.

“Oh my fucking god, please, please, I don’t know what… please Teacher, make me come… let me come…”

The vibrator doesn’t let up but Teacher throws his head back and moans. The pressure builds to a critical point and you feel on the verge of blacking out.

“Come, it’s okay, come…” Teacher calls out and you feel a flood of physical and emotional sensation. The contractions start in your clit and then you’re clenching Teachers cock while at the same time you’re soaking the bed with a release of epic proportions. It’s happening again just as he’d promised it would in his kitchen after the first time. Teacher is releasing into you at the same time that you’re releasing all over him. He laughs as his hips jerk with his orgasm, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Then he’s watching, as amazed as you are shocked, he finally removes the vibrator from your clit and you sob with relief.

You’re mortified, exhausted, trembling and a little in shock. His hands move to untie your hands from your ankles. Scooping you up he holds you with one arm as he strips the soaked comforter off of the bed. He lays you down and grabs the extra blanket from the closet. Climbing on the bed he cuddles next to you and covers you both.

Neither of you say a word as you drift into a dreamless sleep.


	12. Face fucking and just knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, being unsure and the premise of a phone call.

The room is quiet and dark, the blackout curtains work their magic; you don’t have a clue as to what time it is until the red numbers on the clock tell you. Three p.m.. You’ve been asleep for a solid 15 hours and your bladder is in agony. You shift Teachers heavy arm off of you and he grumbles in his sleep. Your stomach growls loudly and he mumbles an unintelligible reply as you scramble off the bed and towards the bathroom.

Your thighs are sticky from the previous night’s activities and they make an almost plastic sound as they brush together. You smile as you recall the conclusion of last night’s events. Who knew your body was capable of actual female ejaculation and not only that but of such a quantity? Maybe it was just always a matter of finding the right key for the lock. Teacher is definitely that key but you’ve no idea just how deep your lock is. You smile as you think about all the fun that’s still to be had exploring the depths of your depravity.

Walking quickly but carefully to keep from running your toes into something, you feel your way along the wall and come to the bathroom door. You reach inside and flip the light on, hurriedly stepping in and closing the door. You blink against the glare of the fluorescent lights, your sight blurry and your head none too happy with the bright bulbed intrusion. You plop down heavily and relieve yourself, feeling pounds lighter immediately afterwards. Finishing up you stand in front of the sink and wash your hands, daring yourself to look at your naked form in the mirror. When you finally do you take a sharp breath, unable to tear your eyes away from the  jewelry that hangs from your aching nipples. Frankie had given you surgical steel rings with ball enclosures adorned with rubies. Or had Teacher chosen them? He had to have, red is his thing, he’s always requesting it in your clothing.  Either way, the effect is stunning. Diamonds are out as far as you’re concerned and rubies are in.

You look at yourself overall and you can’t help but note that you look different somehow and it’s not just the nipple adornments. Your shoulders are back, no longer hunched forward; it’s as if you’ve gained a world of confidence. You run your hands over your hips, noting they seem slightly curvier. You look at your navel and have a sudden longing to place a ruby there as well. Looking over your unmarked skin you realize that you wouldn’t be adverse to getting a tattoo. But what would you get? You haven’t really lived out loud enough yet to have a story worthy of a tattoo. The boldest thing you’ve ever done is to show Wendy Rockefeller up as the skank she really is at Pelham and you sure as fuck don’t want anything to do with that whore inked on your body.

You run your fingers through your wild mane and quickly brush your teeth before heading back towards Teachers prone form. You lay gently on the edge of the bed so as not to disturb him.

“Why so far away? Do I offend somehow?” 

You jump when his voice calls out to you and then you laugh nervously. He’s, mock sniffing his armpits. You can barely see him in the sparse light coming in from over the blackout curtains but he’s still delicious. He could be dipped in shit and you STILL would.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’ve been awake for hours actually. You’re quite vocal when you sleep.”

Your stomach does a free fall towards your asshole when he says this. What did he hear?

“Wow, I’m sorry then. I guess I need the Versed after all.”

“You don’t need that bloody pill and you’ve no reason to be sorry, you didn’t say anything that I wasn’t extremely interested in hearing.”

You gulp loudly and cringe in the darkness as Teacher reaches over and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer to him.

“Really,” you say trying to hide the shake in your voice, “What could I possibly have said that might interest you? I’d imagine that it was all a bunch of nonsense.”

“You had quite a bit to say about Frankie actually. Should I give her a call? Ask her to come over?” He’s teasing but you sense there is some truth to his words.

“Actually yes, you should, but not to come over. I’m sure you’d like to reschedule your tattoo and I was thinking of getting a navel piercing.”

“I would think you’d be quite too sore this morning to even think about getting more done. But then again, you never cease to surprise me. I should be used to that by now.” Teacher laughs and snuggles closer, pushing the end of his nose into your ear and drawing a laugh from you.

“Actually, I enjoy the ache. It’s a lovely reminder of what happened last night. We don’t have to go back to Studio City if you’d rather go somewhere else.”

“Studio City is the best and the only place I deal with here in L.A.. We can and will most certainly go back there tonight. And you’re right, I want to get my tattoo done. I wouldn’t think Jake will be that upset with me, I sent him a huge tip for the cancellation. And I’m sure Frankie would love a chance to get her hands on you again.”

“What would that mean? What I mean to say is, would me being with someone else in that way, sexually, be within the boundaries of whatever this is?” You’re fishing, trying to figure out where he is with you and your ‘relationship’ mentally and you hope you’re not being too obvious.

Teacher growls, the sound frustrated, and he pulls you closer to him. You feel his cock on your hip and it’s come to life. But then again you’re not entirely sure that he isn’t eternally hard and ready to fuck.

“I can’t say, honestly because I don’t know. In the past I’ve allowed, sometimes even required my pets to have sex with others. At parties, displays, clubs. It’s all part of the scene, the lifestyle. I don’t have intercourse with anyone but my subs.” He sits up against the headboard and pulls your head over into his lap. Your eyes are level with his arousal and you look at it hungrily, wanting nothing more than to take it into your mouth. “But this, I mean with you, it’s different. One moment I find myself imagining you on that piercing table with Frankie’s face buried in your pussy. And then the very next I think I couldn’t bear to see you with anyone else, at least not yet.”

His hand finds its way to your hair and his fingers massage your scalp. You inch your face closer to his erection and snake your tongue out, licking lightly at the shaft. Teacher hisses and pushes your head closer.

“What are your feelings about having actual sex with another woman?” He asks, his voice gruff, his accent pronounced. The sound of his voice makes you dripping wet and his dark tone triples the effect. You want nothing more than for him to fuck your mouth. You want it hard, to be shown no mercy. You will him silently to do what he’d done just inside the door last night.

“I don’t care one way or the other about fucking another woman. But if it would please you I would do it.” You crawl out of Teachers grasp and walk to the window, flinging the blackout curtains open and letting the daylight inside. You push the table and chairs aside and sit on your knees. You place your hands primly in your lap and wait for him.

He stands and walks over to you and you can’t take your eyes off the heaviness of his cock as he stalks towards you. He stands in front of you and you look up at him. He takes his erection and playfully slaps you in the face with it; you can’t suppress a smile. He just knows you…

“Open your mouth,” Teacher demands and you don’t waste a second complying. He shoves his cock in roughly, all the way to the back of your throat. Unlike last night, this time you’re prepared for him and you take him in easily, tilting your head just enough that he fits in. Your tongue works the underside of his shaft and you watch as his expression melts, turns into one of ecstasy. Your cunt floods with our excitement. Nothing is as important in your mind as pleasing this man.

His hips are hypnotic to watch, the motion fluid as he moves his cock in and out of your mouth. You revel in the musky taste of him mixed with your own flavor; remnants from last night. You think to yourself that you could never get sick of this. Your hand slides up his thigh and you grip his balls in your hand as he fucks your mouth ferociously. You feel the tears of your efforts slide down your cheeks and Teacher sees them and growls his approval. One of his hands leaves your head and he reaches down to pull on one freshly pierced nipple. The feeling makes you squeal although the sound is muffled by your mouth being full of his erection. You soak in the pain, relish it and silently beg him with your eyes to not forget the other one. He obliges, pulling harder on the second one and you find yourself on the verge of coming.  He pulls out of your mouth and you cry your thanks to him. He’s jerking hard and fast and you open your mouth as his release flows out of him. His head is thrown back and all you can see is the heaving of his chest and his hand holding his still hard cock.

You’re smiling, elated that Teacher just always knows what you need. Maybe that’s the gift of a truly good Dom; that he’s telling you what you want and making it seem like your own idea somehow. You really don’t care either way, you’re truly alive, finally happy where you are and the ride you took to get to this place is inconsequential.

Teacher bends down next to you and whispers lowly in your ear, “I want to see you with a woman; being pleasured by another female. I won’t force it on you if it’s not something you’re truly curious about but I think it’s something you should experience at least once in your life; I want to be there to see it.  It doesn’t have to be Frankie, we could look elsewhere for someone you find more attractive.”

He looks at you, his pupils so huge you can’t see the color anymore and feel like you’re drowning in their inky blackness. You can sense how much Teacher desires this and that makes up your mind for you. While you might have been wavering before, you’re resolute now.

“Actually Frankie is perfect, I think she’s fucking beautiful and unlike any woman I know personally. But I don’t want to bring her here. Is there somewhere else we can go? I want this place to be just for you and I, ours alone to come back to.” What you’re really thinking is that you don’t want Frankie to know where you’re staying in case you chicken out and run but that’s something you can’t admit, even to yourself. You’re also thinking that Frankie is the best option because she’s on the other side of the country from where you live and you’re not likely to run into her by accident one day.

“I think Frankie will be more than willing to accommodate us.” Teacher says as he stands and reaches for his phone.

“Do you… will you, I mean, are you planning on having sex with her too?” The question comes out in a rush and you’re sorry for having asked it immediately. Teacher laughs and throws his phone down on the bed. He walks back over to you and holds his hand out to help you up.

Standing in front of him, your sore chest brushes against his and you strain to look up into his eyes. He’s never seemed this tall before but now he’s like a giant and you feel incredibly small.

“Emmaline, I told you already. I only fuck my Subs and you are the only sub under my direction and care right now. Besides, Frankie doesn’t fuck men. Wasn’t that obvious to you last night?”

This was going to be an interesting night indeed.


	13. Xanax, Pissed off Teacher, and grab the mop bucket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Debbie, my lovely friend, on her birthday. <3

LA stinks, literally. The air is worse than it is in New York, full of smog and exhaust. Your head is foggy from the stench and from the Xanax you snuck while in the bathroom. You feel guilty for taking it but in your mind you really had no choice; the anxiety over the planned activities was too great and you caved to the Sirens song of a chemically induced calm. Teacher would be pissed if he knew, this much you’re certain of so you took only a small dose. What you didn’t count on was the fact that it’s been so long since you’ve taken a Xanny that its effects are stronger than you recall. So now it’s all you can do to hold your shit together and to appear normal. All you want is to please Teacher, to learn something more, to deserve a reward from him.

Teacher’s been silent since you left the hotel, although his fingers wander aimlessly up and down your arm leaving goose bumps in their wake. You wonder what’s going through his mind. Is he looking forward to seeing you fuck Frankie? Is he regretting the whole idea? How can you even begin to know what he’s thinking about it since you don’t even have a clue as to your own feelings regarding sex with this woman.

But that’s bullshit and you know it; if you were truly into it you wouldn’t have chewed that Xanny like a tictac back in the bathroom. All you really want is to go back to The Standard and have Teacher spank your body all over with his hand, his crop, whatever. You just crave that sting, that release that only he can give you. You want to flood the bed, the carpet with your come until it leaks into the room below you. Now that you’ve had that sort of release nothing less is going to satisfy you.

The cab pulls up in front of Studio City and you wait for Teacher to exit and to help you out. You’re wearing a red satin Talbot Runhof cocktail dress and some slightly more sensible Louboutin heels. You’re sans bra again but wearing a pair of black Agent Provocateur Zatanna thong cut panties. The feel of the gossamer material against your hairless pussy is exotic and enhanced by the medicine. Life on Xanax is extraordinary, you’re free of anxiety and fear of what’s to come. As a matter of fact you’re more aroused by everything around you now, even the stink of this shit town. You stifle a giggle as you see that Teacher’s gotten a gander at your naughty undies as he’s helping you out of the cab.

“I guess I’ve given it all away,” you laugh as you stumble into his arms. He eyes you, concern showing on his face and you do your best to act straight. You chant over and over in your head _‘don’t blow this!’_.

“Everything alright, pet?” He asks as he pulls your dress down to provide modesty that you don’t give a shit about at the moment.

“I’m good! It’s all good,” but your words are slurred slightly and you stumble again. Teacher turns and grabs your hand, leading you inside. Once again you’re greeted by Frankie; her smile is totally predatory this time, she knows she has you and it shows all over her face.

“Welcome back Emmy, Tuck. Let’s go ahead and get the piercing done and then Jake will be ready to do your tatt by the time we’re done in there. Afterwards you guys can come with me.”

“Sounds divine,” Teacher says but you can tell that he’s displeased about something. He’s on to you and you feel sick about it.

Heading into the same room as last night you see that Frankie’s already picked out a matching belly ring to complement the nipple jewelry. The ruby sparkles in the overhead light and you sigh. This night isn’t going the way you’d hoped.

Frankie leaves to answer the phone and Teacher throws daggers at you.

“What have you taken? What are you on?” He’s angry, his nostrils flare and you see his eyes turn dark _. No, no, nooooo, it’s not supposed to go down like this…_

“Listen, I’m sorry. I was having an anxiety attack and I took a Xanax. I don’t want you to be mad at me and I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“If this is causing you so much anxiety that you have to take a fucking pill then we shouldn’t be here…”

“I’m not explaining this right… shit. First, please, please PLEASE don’t be upset with me. It’s an actual prescription and I haven’t taken it in ages so it’s stronger than I expected. I didn’t take it to get high, just to take the edge off so I wouldn’t embarrass  you or myself.”

“You’re missing the point, I _want_ you on edge, it enhances the experience. I don’t ever want your senses dulled by anything. You either give me 100 percent or nothing. Are we clear?”

You can only nod, you’re sure that if you weren’t dulled by the meds you’d be in tears right now. Frankie comes back in the room and you paste a smile on your face. You look at teacher and your resolve turns to steel. You’re going to change his attitude about this evening one way or another.

“Frankie, could you look at something for me?” You ease back onto the table and shimmy out of the scant underwear. Kicking them to the side you spread your legs wide, hitching your dress up and exposing yourself to her greedy gaze. Your finger trails lazily to your clit and  points at it; Teacher’s eyes are popping out of his head and Frankie’s mouth is hanging open. “Do you think there’s enough of a hood here to get a piercing?”

Frankie lowers herself to her knees and gets eye level with your cunt. She licks her lips and leans in closer. “I think you would be lovely with a clit piercing.”

“Now Frankie, look closely because I don’t want to risk losing any feeling in that wonderful little place. I’m crazy sensitive there and I’m not willing to risk damaging it if you’re not sure.” You rub your finger across it and you feel it harden.

“I’m sure with my gentle touch and some careful placement you’ll be more than satisfied with it.” You hear Frankie talking but you’re not looking at her, you’re looking at Teacher and the way his expression has turned from anger to one of sheer intensity. He has to know that even with the Xanax you’re nervous and unsure but even so, you’ve got Frankie right where he wants her; with her face in your pussy.

“Now Frankie, what gauge do you think would be best for a tiny little clit like mine? Do you need to feel it to get a better idea?” Frankie moans but you don’t spare her a glance. You’re staring Teacher down, begging him to say something, anything, but he’s mute. He crosses his arms and sits back in the seat across from you. You see the front of his pants are tented with an enormous erection. You think about how just a couple hours ago that cock was slamming into your mouth, plunging down your throat and you feel the moisture of your arousal start to seep out. Frankie sees it and you feel her finger run through it. You gasp at the contact but you don’t break eye contact with Teacher.

She runs the same finger coated with your slick heat up to your clit and massages it slowly. “I would think something small like a 15 gauge would be perfect but I think I need a closer look…”

“Look as closely as you need to,” you whisper breathlessly. Teacher is shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his pants strained against the onslaught of his cock. Frankie’s tongue makes contact and you smile. The sensation is somewhat dulled by your medication but still wonderful in its own right. The feeling of a woman exploring your cunt is a whole other world. She’s not too hard with her ministrations or too soft. She owns the same make and model as you so she’s comfortable in the driver’s seat. It’s nice what she’s doing but you’re getting more from watching Teacher. You don’t blink, you don’t want to miss a second. He’s getting off big time on what he’s seeing and you eat it up. You’re picturing him with that deliciously evil riding crop, imagining it slapping into your clit with an unmatched ferocity.

Frankie parts you and slides a finger inside of you, never ceasing with her licking and sucking and you sigh loudly. She’s wonderful but she’s not Teacher and she’s not going to get you off. Suddenly Teacher stands and walks over to you. He walks behind you and grabs your throat in one strong hand. There’s gentle pressure, no choking, but he pulls your head back to his mouth and he bites at your earlobe.

“How does that feel, pet? Is it different? Better? Answer me.”

“Different, not better,” you gasp. He bites your neck and you spasm around Frankie’s fingers.

“I like watching you get your cunt eaten, but I have a feeling that it’s not really doing much for you. Why is that? Answer me.”

“It’s too soft… too kind. It’s not you…” you whimper, aching for some kind of punishment. Teacher doesn’t disappoint; he reaches around and down into your dress, pulling one breast out and pinching the nipple roughly. You pour arousal onto Frankie’s tongue and cry out. He takes your other breast out and now he’s got both piercings between his fingers, pulling on them and biting hard on your neck. You’re so close to coming but he’s not given you the okay, not told you it’s time and you’re not about to disappoint him twice in one night.

“Frankie,” Teacher says, his voice gruff, “I think now would be a great time to get that needle ready.” Frankie says nothing but nods and stands, snapping on gloves and then smearing your clit and the surrounding tissue with cleanser. You’re so erect that you wonder how she’ll find the hood to pierce it but you’re beyond reason now. You know that Frankie’s needle will do what her tongue never could; get you off.

Teacher pulls your arms behind you and pins them together with one hand while his other holds your neck.

“I want you to wait until you feel that white hot burn, until that needle slides into and through your skin and when it does, I want you to come and I want you to thank Frankie for what she’s given you. Prepare yourself, pet. Keep your eyes on me.”

You feel Frankie’s gloved fingers part you once again and then you feel her separate your hood from the tender nub. The cold sting of the needle pointedly nips at your skin and you hold your breath.

“No, love, breathe… feel it,” Teacher growls then you see his head nod and the needle pierces you. Instantly you’re crying out, your nub contracting and bucking against the cold metal sticking through you and your cunt’s pouring all over the table and onto floor. Teacher bites your shoulder roughly as a reminder and you cry out, “Thank you… fuck! … thank you Frankie…”  You can’t breathe, the orgasm is so intense you feel on the verge of blacking out.

If Teacher weren’t holding you down you’d be in the floor, jerking and bucking like an epileptic. Frankie’s laughing and doing her best to hold you down as well. She hasn’t gotten the jewelry in yet.

It seems like a lifetime passes before your body calms. You’re in an almost vegetative state while Frankie snaps the ruby ball into the small ring that decorates your pussy now. Teacher rubs the side of your face tenderly as he speaks to Frankie. You can’t follow the conversation, you’re zoned out from your release ; you’re sure the Xanax has already been flushed out of your system. You have to find your way back to reality, to figure out what’s going on but it’s like swimming upstream through mud.

“Now worries,” Frankie says, laughing, “I’ve only ever seen something like that in a porn. I’ll be thinking about that for a long time. You get her straight and I’ll go grab the mop,” Frankie laughs and shakes her head as she leaves the room, “Damn…”

“Emmaline,” Teacher whispers in your ear and you smile up at him. “Do you feel well enough to stay for me to get my tattoo?” You nod sleepily and he pulls you up by your arms. “You surprised me yet again darling. I wasn’t expecting that from you. I’d like to think it’s something you would have done even if you hadn’t self-medicated.”

“Don’t you know?” You ask sleepily, “I would do whatever it takes to please you, Teacher.”


	14. Angst, Seychelles and Where the fuck have you been?

The three days following your last piercing had passed in a blur. Teacher had gotten a Union Jack tattoo on his chest and you’d watched him soak up the pain of the needle piercing his skin like a million tiny stinging bees. He’d never flinched, not even once. Instead you’d known that he’s gone somewhere out of his own mind and into some zone where you couldn’t reach him. You’d made idle chatter with Jake but hadn’t wanted to distract him from the beauty he was laying into Teacher’s skin.

There had been no more sex between the two of you. You’d found some bleeding from your nipple piercings and Teacher apologized for being so rough with them. You hadn’t wanted an apology, you’d wanted him to give them a few good tugs instead but he’d declined. And he wasn’t going near your clit piercing. He’d said, “Pet, we don’t want to risk an infection or tearing there. That’s an important part of you that I don’t want to fuck up.”  In truth, he’d seemed utterly uninterested in your body afterwards and it was all you could do to keep from falling apart. Your head is done in completely. He’d declined repeated requests from FDR and Lauren to bring you over. He’d taken you out to Rodeo Drive for some shopping but he’d been on his phone the entire time, texting or talking in low tones to someone; you never dared ask who it was because it was obviously something he wasn’t trying to share with you.

Your flight had left a day earlier than his and his goodbye at the airport had been brusque; he’d kissed you on the cheek and left you at the main entrance before hopping into a cab. He’d not looked back once as the yellow car had driven him away. You’d been too numb to cry but you’d stormed immediately into the airport bathroom and taken two Xanax to make sure you stayed numb. You’d dialed all but the last number of his cell and then had hung up every time. What were you going to say? That you were hurt? He’d told you not to catch feelings from the start. That you were sorry? What had you done that he hadn’t basically demanded of you? Were you going to tell him to fuck off? No, because you need him in every sense of the word. So you’d finally just turned the phone off and by the time you were on board the plane home you were so bombed out of your mind that you knew nothing until the Flight Attendant was shaking you awake.

And for two solid weeks now you’d had zero contact with Teacher. There had been no phone calls, no emails, no texts, and no surprise packages containing kinky devices to shove into various orifices. Your mom was still a hundred kinds of pissed at you for the Wendy Rockefeller scandal as she calls it and several of your ‘friends’ have threatened to come and kidnap you for a weekend away, somewhere that you can only get to by boat. You just don’t answer the phone or the door. You order take out that you barely touch. You watch the video of you and Teacher that last night in his apartment all the way through and then you cry when you hear yourself mutter your wretched hearts secret to him in your sleep. Because that’s the problem, the stumbling block. You love him, you know it to be true and he knew it too. You broke the rules by falling for him and now he’s gone out of your life because of it.

You have to get away, even this apartment that he’s never set foot in is a reminder of him. Your mothers been after you to move to a better neighborhood for a couple of years now and you’re thinking that there really isn’t a reason to stay in New York at all anymore. The city is nothing but one huge fucking reminder of Teacher, Officer Hansen, Tuck the life-ruiner and you can’t take any more. You grab your Vuitton luggage and throw it onto the bed. Screaming, crying you fling anything and everything you can get your hands on into the cases; it doesn’t matter what. If you forget anything you’ll just buy new shit. Maybe, you think to yourself, you just need to do that anyway. Leave all this old shit behind and start all over again.

Grabbing your phone you dial your travel agent and tell her to get you tickets to somewhere warm, somewhere far away from New York. You tell her that she’ll get triple her commission if she can have a ticket in your name at the airport kiosk by the time you get to LaGuardia. Grabbing your carry-on you shove some clean underwear and one change of clothes. Heading out the door your Blackberry beeps but you don’t even look at it before tossing it onto the sofa table on your way out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

One month later…

Your stay at the Anse Kerlan Beach Chalet on Praslin in the Seychelle Islands has been one of solitude. You haven’t interacted with anyone other than a curt nod to the cleaning staff. You’ve had every meal delivered but have barely touched anything other than enough alcohol to wash down the pills you shovel into your face. If you don’t take the pills you see his face. If you see his face you cry. Crying isn’t acceptable. You keep waiting for numbness or indifference to swoop in and make you feel better but it doesn’t come. Every morning you wake up without him is raw, salt on an open wound. Nothing except oblivion that comes from chemicals helps.

You barely recognize yourself in the mirror anymore. Your cheeks are gaunt, your eyes empty of anything resembling a human being. You’re the shell left after being hollowed out by finding perfection and having it ripped from your grasp. Did you really think there was going to be a happily ever after? Not even money can buy that.

You want to make yourself hate Teacher, fuck that, you can’t call him that anymore because he isn’t your Teacher. He’s Tuck Hansen and he turned away from you because you broke the rules. So you’ve started to hate yourself, hate what you made him do. He probably hates you too because you’re just a silly fucking girl who couldn’t follow one simple rule. Don’t. Fall. In. Love.

 

You flop around on the bed listlessly. Not even the subtle breeze and the sounds of the ocean coming through the French doors can ease you. The sun is bright and illuminates the white sheers that are blowing with the slight wind. In your mind, a thousand times you’ve willed him to walk through the doorway, to have somehow found you. But you know you’re disillusioned and a fool. He’s not coming for you.

You’re mother on the other hand _has_ found you and sent messages by way of telegram. You didn’t even know those things fucking existed anymore and yet she’s had several delivered to your chalet. They sit, unopened, on the bedside table. You’re not able to process anything that horrible bitch has to say to you. You know whatever messages are contained inside those envelopes weren’t sent out of motherly concern or worry. It’s probably just all about Wendy Rockefeller and how you still haven’t apologized, or how your absence at the weekly brunches at Pelham is causing her quite the embarrassment. Fuck. Her.

It’s almost been nice to be cut off from technology. You’d had the staff take all the telephones out of the chalet upon arrival. You’d left your laptop, the phone, the iPad and anything else that could have tempted you with a wifi signal back in New York. You don’t miss any of that shit, but you do miss him.

An aching like you have never known pervades every cell of your body. You’ve even resorted to pulling on your own piercings, slapping your own pussy even harder than HE ever did but it’s not the same. You’re ruined. He ruined you. You know that even if you went out and found another Dom who was into the same things it still wouldn’t be good enough. Your heart wants Teacher. He’s still the only answer to every question. Only time is going to change that and if you don’t get your shit sorted out you won’t have very much time left. You know you’re wasting away, killing yourself a little more each day.

You hear the cleaning staff enter and call out. Dressing quickly in the one dress you bought here on the island you go out to greet them. Argio, the head of the crew, greets you with a concerned smile and you speak quickly.

“I’m leaving in the morning. Could you please bring a phone in so that I might make a call to my travel agent and make my arrangements?” You want him to be quick, you feel the need to escape this tropical hell as much as you’d needed to escape New York. Argio nods and literally runs out of the room. You’re sure that it’s because he wants you out of here. He’d probably rather have you gone than to come in here one morning and find your lifeless body. The thought makes you laugh morbidly. How would that phone call go? How would your mom react to having to make arrangements to have your body shipped from the Seychelles back to New York. She would be so pissed. You shake your head as you hear Argio come back into the room and plug in the landline phone. He brings the cordless receiver to you and leaves quickly.

You make the call to Trina, your travel agent and tell her you want to come back to New York as soon as possible. She says she’ll make the arrangements and call you back with the details. You decide that dinner would probably be a good thing and you call for Argio again.

“Yes miss?” He calls before coming into the room.

“Where would I go to eat if I wanted to get a real taste of local food?”

“There is no place better than Tante Mimi…” You cut him off because he’s giving you the same shit the travel guide did.

“No Argio, I mean, a place that you personally would eat and enjoy.”

Argio looks startled, his blindingly white smile faltering, his dark brow furrowing. “I want to go somewhere the locals frequent. As a matter of fact, I’ll pay YOU to take me to your favorite restaurant. I don’t care what the atmosphere is like as long as the food is good. I think you and I both know that if I don’t get out of this room I might not wake up in the morning.”

Argio nods and calls out to his staff that he’ll be escorting you around the island for dinner and he offers you your sandals.

“Shall we go?”

You nod and slide on the thonged slippers, the feel of them alien and rough against your feet. They’ve only touched the carpeted floor in the past month and your legs feel shaky as you follow Argio outside and to his car. The sun is bright and you close your eyes against the bright onslaught as you climb into the passenger side of the small yellow car.

Argio doesn’t say anything in the car, he navigates the narrow street smoothly, his turns precise. Soon you’re parking outside of a small building surrounded by palm trees. The small sign planted in the sandy landscape simply says Tigre.

Argio speaks and you jump, then laugh nervously. “Most of the locals eat creole but it’s not the watered down version you might be used to. This is the most popular place on the island for food. It’s hard to get a table. Luckily for you, I know the cook. She’s my mère, my mother.” His smile is full of pride and you can’t help but to return it.

“Let’s go, I’m famished.”

Inside you’re taken to the actual kitchen to meet Argio’s mother, Dahlia. She’s nothing like you’d expected. She’s small, slight of build with the same enormous eyes as Argio. She pulls you into a hug and gasps.

“Merci! This child needs something right now!”

Argio leads you over to a small table in the cramped kitchen, the smells from the various pots and pans has you drooling. It’s the first time you’ve felt hunger at all since you’d left L.A.. Almost instantly a huge bowl of something dripping in gravy with a lot of shrimp and rice is put in front of you. You don’t even ask what it is, you don’t care. The smell is so irresistible that you dig in like a maniac. Five minutes later the bowl is empty and you feel a peaceful calm for the first time in forever it seems.

You reach into your bag to grab your wallet but Dahlia comes over and stays your hand.

“Mama, it’s on the house. But let me say this to you, whatever has got you so torn up and to this point, you have to stop running from it. I’m guessing it was a man?”

You nod, your mouth is open and tears flood your vision.

“You either have to find him and make peace with him or move on. You’ve but one life and you can’t waste it. There’s no greater sin.” Dahlia reaches her arms around you and for the first time, here in this crowded kitchen in a foreign place, you allow yourself to feel the pain of loss. Your cries are stifled by her embrace and you let it all go, you let HIM go.

 

* * *

 

 

Seventeen hours later you find yourself landing in LaGuardia. Trina had arranged for a private car to meet you at the airport and as you climb in you sigh heavily. Being back in New York has brought on a new wave of sadness, one that a simple cry isn’t going to fix. Half of you wants to find Him, to tell him you forgive him and that you understand why he left. But you really don’t, it would be an excuse to see him and nothing more. Just another exercise in torture.

Where do you go from here? You know you can’t remain celibate forever and you also know that vanilla sex will never be what you need OR want. So will you ever go out and seek someone to replace HIM? Where would you even start. The idea of it turns your stomach and you close your eyes, pressing your head against the cold glass of the car window.

Traffic is light and your dropped off at your door. The doorman gives you the same concerned look that’s become the normal expression on every face you see. You know you look bad but you’re starting to get an idea of just how bad. He opens the door for you and you drag your jet-lagged ass to the elevator. The ride takes too long and you lean against the polished brass wall. You’re exhausted and it’s a weakness that goes beyond physical.

Opening the front door you expect to be hit with the smell of rotten fruit; you’d left a huge basket of it on the counter. When you see that it’s disappeared you figure that your mother probably hire someone to come and  maintain everything. God knows she wouldn’t want it to get out that her daughter disappeared and left fucking rotting fruit on the counter! The second thing that you notice is that your Blackberry is on the counter and plugged in to charge. Not caring to see how many missed calls you have or to listen to messages left by your mother you leave it where it lays.

Walking into the bedroom you notice that the bed has been made and that the curtains are open. You walk over to close them and a voice, HIS voice comes from behind you.

“Where in the FUCK have you been?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me, sometimes you need plot to up the porn ante.  
> This one goes out to everyone who's read and comes with a promise that the angst is short-lived and the fucking shall commence again next chapter.


	15. Ticking timebombs and Contract killers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're back in NY and you're in trouble, big time.

He’s here, he’s real and he’s pissed. You don’t even have to see him to know, the venom drips from his voice and the air is charged like lightning is about to strike. You feel your eyes start to roll back in your head but you fight the urge to black out. The jetlag, the abuse you’ve put yourself through by not eating and self-medicating, it’s all catching up with you and you have to lean over onto the bed and steady yourself. You hear his hurried footsteps and the overhead light blazes on. His hands pull you to him and then his fingers turn your face upwards.

“Where have you been? What the fuck have you done to yourself Emmaline?”

You try to push him away, to hide your gaunt face from him but his grip is iron and his face a study of worry and something else that you can’t name.

“Why do you care? You left me here waiting for two weeks after LA, two weeks and no word. Not a call, you gave me nothing! I had to get out of here. So I did. What’s it fucking to you?” You’re screaming now, clawing at him but even in your anger you haven’t got the energy to back it up with conviction. You sag against him, willing him to just let you go, let you collapse on the floor.

“So you left and did what? Ate pills and nothing else? You look like a fucking nightmare. Why would you do this to yourself?” His hands pull your head close to his chest and you feel the warmth, hear the beating of his heart and for a brief moment you let yourself soak it in, you breathe in his cologne and smile sadly because you know this is the end. He’s showing you pity but it won’t be enough to make up for you breaking his rule. He won’t forgive or abide the fact that you have feelings for him.

“Just go. I’m tired; I know I look like shit; I don’t need you to tell me because I feel like shit. I’m not okay and I don’t know if I ever will be but that’s not your problem. I don’t expect you to swoop in and save me.  I know I broke the rules and that’s why you left me…  kept me waiting. I understand. Now go, please. I can’t take anymore, not right now.”

He places his hands on your head, once covering each tear stained cheek and his look is dark and furious. “ ** _Do_** you understand? Because I don’t think you do. I couldn’t come back to NY because I was trailing someone. I was protecting you. Your mate Wendy Rockefeller put a hit on you, Emmy. FDR recognized the guy in the airport; he’d been on the same plane as you. Didn’t put two and two together right away but the day I took you shopping he called me with intel and I _couldn’t_ tell you. If you knew he’d recognize it in your behavior and my chance to catch him would be over. That’s why we had separate flights. I knew I wasn’t coming back right away but I couldn’t tell you why. The guy got spooked and ran. I chased that mother fucker over four continents for two weeks and finally caught up with him in Bangladesh.”

You can’t process what he’s telling you; Wendy had a contract on your life? It had always been a power struggle between the two of you. While her family name was well known you’d never let her get the best of you and it had gone back and forth forever. But she wanted you dead? It’s too much, it can’t be true. But what purpose would it serve for him to lie to you about it? You push yourself away from him and bend over to take your shoes off. You will your mind to go blank and you want nothing more than to dig for the Versed in your purse. As you stand up to face Him again you feel the blood rush from your head and the vision ebbs out of your view; your legs give way and then you’re gone into the blackness of oblivion.

 

 

 

                The night air is cold coming through the open window. You’re under several blankets and you crack an eye, looking around to get your bearings. You can’t discern what memories are real and what were just nightmares you endured during sleep. Was he really here? You’re answered when a finger comes into your view and traces a path down your jawline to your chin.

“Welcome back love.”

The familiarity in his voice and the affection in his tone burn a hole in your heart; how much does he expect you to take before you accomplish what the hit man had failed to do? You bring your hands to your face and hide the tears that come instantly.

“Emmaline, please talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say. We can’t do this anymore. I…,” you falter, unable to say the words even though you feel them with all your heart. To vocalize it and then to hear his rejection would be too much.

“You what? Emmaline, say it.”

“Please don’t make me…” you sob, unable to keep it inside any longer. “Please.”

“I want to hear you tell me what’s wrong. How can I fix this if I don’t know what’s even broken or wrong? Say it.” There’s no point in answering because he can’t fix your feelings. Nothing he could ever do to you would change the fact that you’re in love with him. He shakes you and makes you turn to face him; his look is fierce and demanding.

“I ruined everything. I broke the rule, your only rule. I’m sorry.”

“Say it, I want to hear you say it… NOW.” His tone is smeared with frustration, as if he doesn’t know **_exactly_** what you’re talking about. This is torture of a different kind altogether.

“WHY?” You scream, trying to scramble away from him on the bed but his hands pull you back and pin you down. He’s above you, holding you on the bed by your wrists and then he straddles you. You stare at him, defiant yet crying, “Why do you insist on making me say the words?”

The look in his eyes changes and you know that the Teacher is here. For the first time you’re actually a little scared of him. The way he’s looking at you is near terrifying with its intensity and the fact that you can’t decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Oh I _more_ than insist, little girl. If I have to force you to tell me, I will. I’ve broken far stronger than you and I’m not afraid to use anything within my means and reach to do it.”  His hand snakes its way down between the two of you and hones in like a beacon on your clit piercing. His fingers grasp the ruby adorned ball through the thin material of your sleep clothes and pull it roughly, making you cry out. Your voice is hoarse with tears and aching frustration. “Fucking say it. It’s only going to get rougher for you.”

“You do what you have to _Tuck_ , but you’re not going to force me to say anything,” you growl, your tone becoming sarcastic when you say his given name. You want the punishment, you want the pain, and you crave his ire. You’re going to get one last hoorah out of this before he’s gone forever and you plan on making it one for the record books.

He lets go of your hands and flips you onto your stomach. One hand pulls the sleep clothes he must have changed you into away, effectively baring your ass, and the other comes down hard on the skin there. The crack of the impact as his fingers meet your flesh echoes throughout the bedroom, causing you to scream. “My name as far as YOU are concerned is Teacher,” Several more slaps follow in rapid fire succession; your head is swimming and your ass is on fire but you’re not even close to giving in, “You **_will_** give me the respect I am due.”

He shoves two fingers in and out of you roughly and then spanks you even harder. “Is this what you want from me? Because I can sit here and beat your lovely ass all night long but I think you like it too much,” You hear the sound of him licking your wetness off of his fingers. He moans and chuckles ruefully. “I want to hear you say those words. I always get what I want through any means necessary. You’d do well to acknowledge that before I do some serious damage.”

You set your jaw and wait for the next blow to redden your skin even further but it doesn’t come. You whimper, not sure if the sound is one of frightened anticipation or frustration. Teacher lets you go and stands up off the bed. “Don’t you dare fucking move a muscle,” he threatens. You take the tone of his voice seriously. You hear him fumble with his belt and then the rustling of the fabric of his pants as they hit the floor. Then his fingers wind themselves into your hair and pull you onto the floor. You see nothing but his feet, not venturing a glance anywhere else.

“Look up,” he commands and you obey. His cock is in your face and he uses his free hand to force your mouth open. He’s rougher than he’s ever been with you as he shoves himself into your mouth. His cock head hits the back of your throat brutishly hard and you gag. He doesn’t ease up at all with the next thrust of his hips but he does reach down and pull viciously on your right nipple piercing. They’re sore from lack of proper care and you scream around his member as it slams in and out of your mouth.

“Since you don’t want to use that pretty mouth for talking I assume it’s because you want my cock in it? Correct?” He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him and yet you delight in the taste of him on your tongue and your eyes want to roll up and back from the feeling of what he’s doing. “See, the thing is, I won’t come until I’m ready. I could stand here and skull-fuck you all night or until you’re begging me to stop. But I won’t be able to hear much since your mouth is full.” He shoves harder yet with the last word and tears stream out of your eyes. You reach your hands up to attend to his balls but he sees you and slaps them away. He pulls out of your mouth and slaps you unkindly in the face with his cock. His hand, still entwined in your hair, pulls you up roughly and flips you over onto your stomach with your ass in the air. You hear him reaching into the ever present black bag of his and feel something cold dribble into your ass crack. Without warning he’s balls deep inside your asshole and you squeal helplessly. This is pain like no other; he hadn’t prepared you in any way shape or form. His thrusts are rough and you feel moisture leaking down your thighs. This agony is also your ecstasy; this cruelty is your fantasy come true. He’s not treating you like a china doll that could crumble to dust at any second; he’s using you in every single way you’ve ever wanted and needed to be devoured. You push back into his thrusts, willing him to somehow impale you deeper, fuck you harder, and use you in the kinkiest way possible.

He growls and reaches around to pull on your lowest piercing. He’s going to make you come without his permission so he can punish you even more. You don’t care because one more tug on your clit and he’s going to send you over the edge into a blindingly hot release. Almost as if he senses it he slaps your ass again and grunts, the sound is almost feral. Leaning his body forward without pulling out of your ass he bites the first bit of skin that he reaches. You tense your whole body, your anus constricts tightly around his cock; you cry out and then you feel him coming in your ass. His body convulses and he grasps your hips, pulling you back into him as releases into you.

“FUCK!” He calls out loudly. He’s panting when he pulls out and he picks you up around the waist, tossing you onto the bed.

Your head is a mess; you don’t up from down and before you even know it’s happening he has your hands tied roughly behind your back. He flips you over, placing you belly up and ties your calves securely to your thighs with a series of loops and knots. Your heels are pressed tightly to your ass and your cunt is exposed to him. Every muscle in your arms and legs are screaming in protest; this is the most uncomfortable position you’ve ever found yourself in. Walking around to the head of the bed he grasps your chin in one hand and kisses you roughly. His eyes are still dark and you can see that his cock is still rock hard and standing out from his body.

“I know your ass must be on fire right now. I’ll take that into consideration while I’m in the shower. However, I wouldn’t go thinking that it’s going to bring about any sort of pity from me.” His hand strikes with deadly efficiency as it comes down on your exposed clit and you shriek.

“Ahh, yes; I think the ball-gag is another accessory we should add to the mix since you’re still not willing to do as I have asked.” He walks back to the bag and pulls out the head gear. You look at the red ball and remember the last time it was used on you. Your jaws clench with the memory of how they ached after being jammed open by the torturous orb and you stifle the moan that issues out of your throat. He’s not going to show you an ounce of mercy and you’re thankful.

He comes back and leans into your face, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling on it as he stares into your eyes. Smiling deviously he pulls away and has the ball gag strapped to your head with minimal effort. Tears pour down your cheeks as the strain on your muscles causes a burning sensation throughout your body.

“I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere love,” he says and laughs while walking into the master bathroom.


	16. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly I wave goodbye to this fic with the last chapter...

He not only takes a shower but when he’s finished he walks right past you naked and erect, he also goes to the kitchen and makes some coffee and what smells suspiciously like toast; then you hear the tv turn on. Sounds of outrage and cheering filter back to the bedroom where you’re trussed up like the proverbial Christmas goose; he’s watching some sort of soccer match. The tears have gone from those of relief and gratitude to tears of rage.  Your arms and legs burn with the position you’ve been forced to keep for more than an hour now and no amount of struggling is loosening the ropes that bind you. As a matter of fact, the more you wiggle and squirm, the tighter they feel.

You do your best to scream around the ball and only manage to lodge it back further into your mouth. You hear His phone ringing and hear him answer on speakerphone as He mutes the tv. His richly deep voice carries through the open bedroom door.

“Mate! Yeah I caught up with the fucker in Bangladesh. He won’t be doing business anymore.”

“So how’s Emmaline? What does she know?”

“Only what she needed to know. She’s a bit put out with me at the moment but she’ll come around.”

“Be careful with her Tuck, I know you have fee…”

The phone is expeditiously taken off of speaker phone and he’s obviously walked out onto your balcony. Nude. The association is going to love that. And what the hell was FDR trying to say before he was interrupted by Captain Speedyfingers? That He has a fever? Fingers? Feelings? Every thought in your brain comes to a screeching halt. But its not the first time you’ve thought that he might be feeling something for you is it? Isn’t this what you want? The answer should be a resounding yes but it’s not. What if he does have feelings and if he admits them the whole dynamic between you changes? Can he dole out this kind of delicious sexual torture to a woman he openly loves? It’s a total Who’s The Boss scenario. What if the key to this whole thing is the underlying, unspoken love and once it’s acknowledged everything goes to hell? You lift your head up and slam it into your pillow furiously, the rope bites into your skin and you scream again out of frustration and pain.

It’s ridiculous now that you think about it. Do you really love him or do you love what he does for you? Did you run away to the Seychelles’ because you missed him or were you just being a melodramatic dolt? But that’s what you do isn’t it? You run and you abuse yourself when things don’t go exactly the way you want. That’s your own little way of controlling life. The only time you don’t like control is when you’re in Teacher’s grasp. That’s what you crave, that’s what you need. And if you tell him that you love him it’s just going to fuck everything up and make it all go away.

Your hands are going numb as well as your ankles and you cry out again when you hear the sliding balcony door open. Bare feet pad into the room and you smell your body wash before you actually see him.

“Petal! How are we feeling?” You glare daggers at him as he comes into view and his crooked smirk sets your entire body to twitching. How dare he come in all sex and smiles when he’s basically crippled you with his rope work?

What comes out of your mouth resembles a cat hissing even though it started out as ‘fuck you’.

“Rawr,” he laughs, mocking you. “Let’s get that gag off and see if you’re ready to tell me whatever it is you’re trying to hide.”

The look you give him could peel paint but he’s not affected by it, in fact he seems to enjoy your ire and this only enrages you more. You’re spewing venom the minute the ball is taken out and you swallow hard.

“How fucking DARE you come in here and tie me…” but you’re silenced by his hand over your mouth and his dark expression as it suddenly hovers a few inches above your face.

“Say the fucking words that I want to hear.”

You swallow hard again and a single tear weaves a crooked path down your cheek and onto the pillow beneath your head. All the fight is gone and only the truth of what you’re feeling remains. No more games, no more hiding, no more fear of what it means. Six words spill out of you in a torrent of reality.

“I am in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's time to pick your ending from the three possibilities I've given you... choose wisely and never say that I don't do my utmost to make everyone happy <3


	17. The Romantic Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read this for the romantic ending to the fic, otherwise try one of the two remaining options...

Looking up into his face you see a smile curve its way into his expression. You smile tentatively back, unsure of what’s going on.  
“Was that so hard love?”  
“But your rule…”  
“That rule went out the window the first time you crawled on your knees to me with my crop in your hands. I’ve never known anyone like you Emmaline, what kind of fool would I be to hold on to some stupid rule I made because someone else broke my heart? What kind of moron lets someone who makes them feel the way you make me feel slip through their fingers? What kind of man lets go of the woman that he loves as much as I love you?”  
“You love me?” You can’t believe the words he just said; you don’t trust your ears or your eyes. Because right now he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing on earth to him.  
“Darling, when I couldn’t find you I was insane with worry. When I didn’t know where you were all I could think about was what a stupid man I was for letting you slip through my fingers. Yes I love you and I’m not afraid of it because I know that we’ll never have a conventional kind of love. We’re never going to be the couple that throws dinner parties and becomes uncle and auntie so and so to our friend’s kids. We’re always going to be the kind of couple who sneak off to someone’s bathroom and fuck like gorillas on the countertop while everyone is playing Secret Santa. You’re always going to need what I want to give you and I’m always going to want to control you, to punish you and to ravage you. Why would I ever need to go looking elsewhere when I have perfection now?”  
“Teacher,” you sigh and sob with relief. You close your eyes but they spring wide open as you feel the ball gag being put back into place.  
“Now, enough of this sharing our feelings, open wide because I’m about to fuck every hole in your body properly. And you’d better not come until I give you permission.”  
The End  
  



	18. The Realistic Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Realistic Ending to the story for the less than romantically inclined

Teacher looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“What did you just say to me?”

You shake your head furiously, refusing to repeat the words. Once they were out of your mouth you realized that you didn’t really mean them, not in the classical sense anyway.

“I asked you what you said. Speak.” His voice is a threatening growl and you shiver involuntarily at the sound of it.

“What I meant to say was that I love the way you make me feel. Even when I’m pissed off at you I want you. No one’s ever made me feel this way before. I just… I don’t think I can live without the way you make me feel.” These words feel even more intimate that your momentary lapse of discretion.

“I told you from the start, I can’t love you, not in the way people tend to think of love. I can offer you my time, my body, my attention and my Domination but I can’t ever love you. You have to tell me now that you’re ok with this or we need to go our separate ways Emmaline.”

The tears threaten to fall but you blink them back. He’s never changed his story and you’re the fool who couldn’t obey the one simple rule he set down from the start.

“I, I understand. I totally do. I’ll do what it takes to keep you here, to keep you with me. I won’t speak of love again, just don’t leave me. Don’t go because I need this…”

“Follow my rules and I won’t go anywhere. I like things the way that they are. I can’t promise that things will always be perfect but this is good as it is right now. I can’t say that there aren’t feelings for you somewhere inside of me but I’m not built to love anyone. When I try, I destroy them.”

“I don’t need your love… I need your discipline, your punishment, your crop,” you repeat the words you’ve said to him before but you mean them even more now. He’s your air, your heartbeat, your reason for everything. Teacher is the answer to every question you might ever ask.

“Enough of this talking, I’ve better uses for that mouth. Open wide because I’m about to fuck every hole in your body properly starting with this one,” he says as he pulls on your bottom jaw roughly, “And you’d better not come until I give you permission.”

The End


	19. The OMFG Ending (aka the one you didn't expect)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd be really surprised if someone chose this option over the other two...

“Well that’s rather unfortunate and it doesn’t change anything. I still have to kill you, darling.”

You look up at him with a silly smirk on your face. He’s a real fucking comedian…

He walks over to his black bag and pulls out a huge handgun with what you figure is probably a silencer attached. “You see love, while I worked for the CIA I got quite a taste for bloodshed. The whole dom thing only goes so far to feed that lust. So when I left I joined the police force here in New York. You’d think there would be ample opportunity to take people out but now all that’s gone. So I took on some work as a hit man. Did you know your mother is supremely pissed at you? So much that she paid me to take care of what she deemed your father’s ‘little indiscretion’? It’s true that I don’t need the money but I do need the rush.

“Very funny,” you whisper but you feel fear creeping in to your mind. Your heart races as he snaps on black leather gloves and pulls on a clear rain poncho and clear protective glasses.

“Yeah, headshots make quite the mess and I’ve learned to wear as little as possible when taking care of business.”

“Let me go, this isn’t funny anymore,” you struggle against the ropes but it’s no use.

“I’ve rather enjoyed our time together, rather enjoyed all the fucking and playtime. But all good things come to an end love. And your mother has paid me handsomely for my services.”

“Let me GO!” You scream as he places the pillow over your face.

“You have my permission to die,” he says and then…

The end


End file.
